Twin Potters and the Philosopher's Stone
by magieli
Summary: Isabelle Potter has never really fit in with the muggle world, but all that is about to change when a mysterious letter finds it's way into her life. This is merely the beginning, yet there's so much to be discovered; the truth about the past and the possibilities of the future...
1. The Twins Who Lived

Privet Drive was usually an ordinary street, but not on this night.

The stars twinkled in the sky brightly, a beautiful contrast of the glitter that spread over the velvet clouds. It was in the early hours of the morning, and the environment was still. Not a single creature out to prowl on this night - all except one tabby cat, who was sat on the wall of number four.

The cat was rigid, it had been lurking in that very spot all day observing the occupants of house at number four. It seemed that the cat was waiting for something to happen, and refused to leave until it did. The cat didn't even budge when Vernon Dursley shooed the cat away before getting into his car that morning, or when Dudley Dursley threw his toy car at it from his pram; he and Petunia Dursley were going out for a midday walk.

However, the cat did not have to wait much longer for what it was waiting for, because suddenly, the cat drew its attention to a shadow that emerged from the darkness of the corner of the street.

_This _was not the kind of ordinary that would be seen on Privet Drive. Considering the cat had seemingly been waiting a long while for this, it didn't seem too thrilled - it's eyed narrowed and its tail twitched.

The silhouette that had stepped out was an old man, considering his age, the man had a strong appearance about him - both in body and mind. He wore a long purple cloak with embroidered patterns and a set of boots. He had kind, twinkling eyes behind a set of half moon glasses and a warm smile behind his long silver beard that was so long he could tuck it behind his leather belt.

This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

Dumbledore stepped forward, clearly blissfully unaware of the sheer unwelcomeness he would be met with if he was to step out on this street in broad daylight. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver out-putter, flicked it open, and every single light on the street shot into it. He closed it, then proceeded to number four.

"I should have known you'd been here, Professor McGonagall." He said softly, with a glint in his eye.

Then, as if on cue, the cat shifted, and in its place stood a very stern looking woman in a long emerald cloak and a bun tightly and nealy placed at the top of her head. She seemed somewhat ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" She asked

"My dear Minerva, I have never seen a cat sit to stiffly."

"Well, you'd be stiff if you'd sat on a brick wall all day." She stated sharply, then, her sharpness softened as she said, "are the rumours true, Albus? What they're all saying about the Potters?"

"Yes. The good news - and the bad news. Do you care for a sherbet lemon?"

McGonagall exhaled, the sadness on her face shifting to complete astonishment at Dumbledore's random question. "A what?"

"A sherbet lemon. They're a type of muggle sweet I am rather fond of" He explained while taking one from his robe pocket and popping it in his mouth.

"No thank you" McGonagall replied, dissatisfied. A sadness continued residing on her face. "Where are the twins?"

"Hagrid is bringing them." Dumbledore reported, then looked down at his watched. "Seemingly he got a little held up, he's late. Though I'm assuming it was him who also told you I'd be meeting him here tonight"

"Yes. _Why are _you meeting him _here _of all places?"

"Harry will be staying with Petunia and Vernon Dursley"

"_What?" _Minerva shouted, then, lowered her voice as she remembered where she was. "Albus, you can't leave Harry here with these people. They are the worst sort of muggles I have ever seen. I watched their son kicking his mother and screaming for sweets this morning - there's no way this is the best place for Harry to go… Wait, what about Isabelle? Surely you're not separating them."

"I think it is best for Isabelle to stay with the Johnsons. Emma was Lily's best friend in the muggle world. Lily always asked me for Emma to have responsibly of at least one of her children if the worst was to happen which, unfortunately, it has."

"Albus are you sure?"

"These two children are going to be famous. There won't be a person in our world who doesn't know their names or what they have done. Fame before they are able to walk and talk won't be good for them - it will screw with their heads. It is better they grow up away from all of that until they are ready for it. Then, when they come to Hogwarts, they will have each other when they need it the most"

McGonagall, uncertain, continued to nod slowly. "How are the twins getting here?"

"Did Hagrid not tell you he was bringing them?"

"Well, yes but I didn't think he was being serious. I - Do you think that is a wise decision, Albus? Do you really think a task as important as this should be given to Hagrid? I'm not saying that his heart isn't in the right place but…"

"Ah, Minerva. I would trust Hagrid with my life."

As if on cue, there was a loud rumble above the two Professor's heads. Then, an oversized motorbike presented itself before them. The motorbike was huge, but it was nothing to the man riding it. He was massive, with wild bushy hair and beard. He had beetle black eyes and rosy cheeks. He nodded officially at the Professors before stepping off the bike.

"No problems I trust, Hagrid?" Dumbledore inquired.

"No sir. Thankfully good ol' Sirius Black had the motorbike to spare. I got the twins out before the muggles all went in an' started snoopin'. Harry fell asleep just as we were flyin' o'er Bristol, but Isabelle hasn't had a wink 'er sleep." He informed the two. He looked down and grinned at the little girl, "Yer been keeping' me company, haven' yer, Isabelle"

Dumbledore took Harry, and McGonagall stepped up and embraced Isabelle in her arms in attempt to aid the baby girl into a sleep.

"Are you sure this is wise, Albus?" Minerva asked one final time.

"Worry not, Minerva. Everything will be just fine. And before you know it, the Potters will be coming to Hogwarts"

"Albus-" McGonagall tried to protest again, but Dumbledore had clearly made up his mind. This was the best way forward. Dumbledore looked at the little boy in his arms fondly.

"Could I say goodbye to young Harry, Professor?" Hagrid asked.

"Of course" Dumbledore agreed, allowing Hagrid to give Harry a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead before Dumbledore took him back in his arms.

"Are you going to do anything about the scars, Albus?" Minerva asked.

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy you know. I have one on my left knee and it's a perfect map of the London Underground" he told them, then carried Harry to the door and leaving him with a carefully crafted note.

Hagrid began to sniffle as Dumbledore returned the lights back into the lamps hanging on the street. Allowing the road around them to become illuminated once more, they could not stay here for much longer in risk of being seen.

"There, there, Hagrid." He spoke comfortingly, and the giant nodded in understanding, though still padding his eyes with a handkerchief.

The three, and the bike, were apperated to the coast of North Wales in Anglesea. It was a beautiful street with cobble houses and the smell of the sea which could be heard splashing against the rocks only a short distance away.

Hagrid, still sniffling asked "Can I say goodbye to her, sir?"

"Of course Hagrid, but remember, this is not the end."

Hagrid nodded as McGonagall passed the girl over gently. Hagrid took her in his arms and placed a rough kiss on her forehead. The little girl giggled at the tickling sensation against her, and Hagrid felt his heart melt.

Dumbledore took the baby girl from Hagrid's arms and placed her on the doorstep of number seven with a parallel note to the one he had left with Harry.

"Until we meet again." He muttered softly to the little girl that stared at him in awe, her big brown eyes glistening with wonder.

He turned around and faced the two others and smiled.

McGonagall looked tearful, and Hagrid took that a step further as tears rolled down his cheeks. Though Dumbledore merely allowed the twinkle in his eyes to do all the talking. He stepped forward, placing a hand on McGonagall's shoulder in comfort before bidding the two farewell.

"Let us join the celebrations, after all, there is much to be thankful for tonight. Good night dear friends." He turned back to look at the bundle of blankets.

"Good luck, Isabelle Potter."


	2. Exploding Glitter Pots isn't Normal, Iz

It had been eleven years since that fateful night in Godric's Hollow, but Isabelle Potter was alive and well in the cobble house at number seven Sant Avenue.

Those eleven years had been tough, it seemed that Isabelle didn't manage to get anywhere without acting as a magnet for trouble. For as long as she could remember, she was always marked as 'strange' by her classmates. It seemed that exploding glitter pots and snapping swing sets didn't come naturally around most others.

Though this didn't change the way Emma and Daniel thought of her. They had been brimming with love and support since the moment she entered their house the morning they found her on the doorstep in a bundle of blankets and a letter beside her explaining everything that had happened.

It was explained to Isabelle from a very young age that her parents had died in an accident - though this accident was never really talked about. In some ways, Isabelle wasn't sure she wanted to know, but curiosity got the better of her sometimes. In dreams, she has reoccuring nightmares of evil male laughter and a flash of green light. Isabelle can't be sure if these dreams are memories, or simply nightmares, though she never fails to wake up in a shaking sweat because of it.

Isabelle was also told that she has a brother named Harry, however she has no recollection of him whenever she thinks back to her earliest memories. Emma was regretful when she explained that her and Petunia hadn't spoken in years, even before Isabelle came into their lives, so there was no way of making contact. It became apparent to Isabelle that Emma had no idea where Petunia was or what she was doing with her life. The last Emma had heard was that Petunia was dating a stuck up Smeltings lad from London who had large business aspirations.

Harry could be anywhere on the planet, he was practically untraceable.

But of course, this can't be the only set of obstacles in Isabelle's life. When she was six, Emma passed away due to a car accident. She had been hit driving home by a drunken driver. Daniel never really recovered from the news, yet still proceeded to do everything in his power to ensure Isabelle was brought up well and remained healthy.

In spite of all this, Isabelle doesn't like school, and has no ability to make friends, but she's clever enough and loves sports. Daniel is a business person, and is always crafting up new ideas and marketing plans. She owes a lot of her creativity and imagination to him. The two of them would spend evenings sitting at the sea shore, Daniel drafting marketing plans, and Isabelle reading, or making sandcastles, or rockpooling and frantically showing Daniel whenever she found something remotely interesting to her.

Things aren't perfect, but they are okay. Though starting from today, her life is about to change…

The sunlight poured in through the windows, and Isabelle closed her eyes shut tightly to avoid it. It was too late, she was awake now, and gave in to the consciousness by stretching out her arms and slowly adjusting her eyes to the light.

Downstairs, the faint sound of whistling could be heard along with the smell of brewing fresh coffee and bacon. In response, Isabelle's stomach grumbled loudly. She sighed, still not fully awake as she swung her legs over the side of the mattress and decided to change.

Once she had thrown on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, she proceeded to the mirror, where she picked up a brush in attempt to tame her dark brown curls.

Isabelle had always viewed her appearance as fairly normal, she had a pale complexion of milk and rose with freckles spreaded across her nose and cheeks and eyes big, dark and brown. She was small and petite, though this is most likely owed to the exercise she engages with at school because she could honestly eat for Wales, or so Daniel tells her anyway.

With the thought of food in her mind, she decided her hair was presentable, and took to the stairs to claim some breakfast.

"Bore da," Daniel greeted in Welsh as Isabelle came in, not forgetting to collect the post as she swung around the door.

"Bore da," she grinned in response as she saw the eggs and bacon sizzling nicely in a pan, almost ready. "That looks delicious." She tossed the post on the kitchen table, where a cup of apple juice already waited for her opposite Daniel's coffee.

"I was going to have cereal this morning, but then I saw the bacon when getting the milk, so now we're having bacon and eggs." He said, Isabelle laughed.

"Well I'm not complaining." She took a seat at the table as he served up. The two ate, making brief conversation between mouthfuls. Then, when they were done, Isabelle washed up as Daniel cleaned the worktops.

"This the post?" Daniel asked, picking it up and inspecting the letters.

"No, it's a fish." Isabelle giggled when Daniel rolled his eyes at her sarcasm, though he couldn't hold off from smiling too. However, this smile didn't retain on his face for very long, it was in seconds that it dropped to a look of panic.

Isabelle frowned, "What's wrong?"

Daniel looked up. "This one's for you but…" he trailed off for a second, maybe to think of his words before he chose them. "We need to talk about a couple of things first."

"What is this about?" Isabelle inquired, suddenly feeling rather nervous.

"Your school has written your letter of acceptance. Come on, let's go and sit in the living room."

Isabelle followed Daniel into the living room. They perched on the sofa and Daniel placed the post beside him, it was then that Isabelle saw the letter addressed to her amongst the bills.

_Ms Isabelle L. Potter_

_The Bedroom on the Left_

_7 Sant Avenue_

_Anglesey _

_Wales_

It occurred to her that the accuracy of her location was rather strange, however she found herself more concerned with Daniel as he seemed at a loss for words.

"I wish Emma was here to talk to you about this, but she isn't. So, I hope I can explain this to you as well as she could, she was always so good with words." He spoke sadly, though smiled when Isabelle placed her hand over his in comfort.

"Alright then, here it goes. So, you know how your Mother and Father died in an accident many years ago?" It wasn't so much of a question than a statement, he continued. "Well, it's the truth but, we never really explained what it was all about. You see, your parents didn't just pass away, unfortunately it's a little more complicated than that. Your parents were murdered."

Isabelle felt her mouth turn dry, she was at a loss for anything constructive to say. "Murdered?"

"Yes, by a very, very terrible man. His name isn't spoken because he is so feared, however I should tell you. Don't make me repeat it mind; his name was Voldemort."

"Voldemort…" Isabelle repeated, the name itself making her feel cold.

"You-know-who was a wizard, an evil one at that. He stopped at nothing to get power and glory. He killed your parents, and… well, he tried to kill you and your brother as well, but something stopped him. It isn't entirely clear what, but it's the reason you're still here, and why you have that scar."

Isabelle exhaled, unsure if she should be taking this all entirely seriously. "Daniel. Did I literally just hear you call this man a wizard?"

"Yes, and it was no accident. It's a secret to non-magical people, but wizards and witches live among us. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

"No, not really."

"You're a witch, Isabelle. Just like your Mum and Dad."

Isabelle sat in silence for a moment, she wasn't entirely sure what to say. Inside, she was half expecting a punchline to come, but nothing ever did. She wanted to laugh and say 'good one, Daniel' and realise this whole thing was a joke, but part of her believed the seriousness on his face, they way he watched her with such a close, worried expression.

"I'm sorry I never told you this, Isabelle. Dumbledore requested that you weren't to be told anything until you were old enough to understand. That's why you're here with me in the muggle world. You're famous in the wizarding world."

"Famous?"

"Yes. When you-know-who killed tried to kill you, something stopped him. Like I said, no one is entirely sure why. One thing we do know, he hasn't been seen since that night."

"So, he died?" Isabelle asked.

"Some say so," Daniel sighed, "though I'm not entirely convinced. Something tells me he's still out there somewhere. He was a terrible man, Iz. But, this is why you're famous. You and Harry are the twins who lived."

Isabelle shook her head. "This can't be right, how can I be a witch? I'm just a normal girl, going to a normal school and living a normal life."

Daniel's serious expression shifted to one more of amusement, "I don't think so. What about that time you pushed that boy off the climbing frame at school?"

"But I didn't - it was almost like magic!" Her eyes widened as she said the words, her heart began racing in her chest.

"Exploding glitter pots its normal, Iz." Daniel chuckled as he stood up, "there's one final thing that I can do to change your mind that magic really exists." He exited the room for a second, there was the sound of locks and doors opening and closing until he came back in holding a carefully carved wand.

"You're a wizard?" Isabelle asked, gawking.

Daniel winked, then waved his wand. The room shifted slightly, and some cups floated from the coffee table and into the kitchen.

"Dumbledore requested that you grew up with no knowledge of magic. That was easy for Emma as a muggle, but I struggled a little. Emma locked my wand away when she caught me using it one night to do some chores when you were asleep. I haven't used it since. Ah, it feels good to have it all back."

Isabelle grinned, somehow feeling emotional by the concept. Everything made sense: the nightmares, the odd things that kept happening to her when she was scared or angry and the sense that she was never fully complete.

By magic, Daniel picked up the letter and dropped it on Isabelle's lap.

"Why don't you open it up, seren?" He asked. Seren means star in Welsh, and had been the affectionate pet name that Daniel had referred her by since she was a baby.

She didn't have to be asked twice, she turned the letter over and tore it open. Two slips of parchment fell onto her lap so she opened up the first one, and read the words aloud. "Dear Miss Potter, we are gladly writing to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on the first of September. We await your owl by no later than the thirty first of July. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress."

Isabelle jumped up from her seat and threw her arms around Daniel, embracing him. "I can't believe this is actually happening."

Daniel laughed, "I can't either. I'm going to miss you while you're at school."

Isabelle smiled, pulling away and picking up the second piece of parchment. She read through all the necessary things she'd need to take with her.

"Where on Earth are we going to even get half of these things."

"Only one place for it." Daniel told her, "Diagon Alley. How about we head over there tomorrow?"

"Sounds good." she placed the letters on the coffee table, then brushed a piece of hair behind her ears as she asked, "Do you think Harry will be going to Hogwarts too?"

"There's no one more likely to get a spot in Hogwarts than him, except perhaps you." Daniel remarked with a glint in his eye.

Isabelle grinned, hugging the letter close to her chest.

Her journey was barely just beginning.


	3. A Trip to Diagon Alley

Sidenote: It has literally just occurred to me that Emma and Daniel are the names of the actors that play Harry and Hermione in the films. This was not planned at _all_ I genuinely can't believe I've done this, lol! Anyway, thanks to all you that have already liked, followed and reviewed, it means a lot to me, and I hope that you will all continue to love finding out about Isabelle's journey as much as I will loving writing it!

Isabelle had barely slept that night. In her head, she kept imagining life as a witch. She imagined herself waving a wand the way Daniel had the day before, and imagined herself at Hogwarts - which, according to Daniel, was magnificent castle beside a lake.

Though the most exciting thoughts were those of her brother.

She tried to piece together Harry's appearance. Of course she knew what _she _looked like, and there were photos of her parents around the house, so she wondered how Harry appeared. Did he have curly hair like her and her mother? Or brown eyes like her and her father? Was he taller than her? Did he have freckles, or dimples the same way she did? She couldn't stop herself from trying to put together everything, what was he like? What interests did he have?

When the sun finally rose, Isabelle didn't hesitate in getting herself ready. She plaited her short hair into two separate french braids, allowing a few wild strands to fall around her face that she couldn't tame, and threw on a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt and some sweet mary janes.

She took it upon herself to make breakfast that morning, and decided to fry mushrooms and tomatoes on toast.

Daniel only looked half awake once he finally descended down the stairs to the smell of brewing coffee. "Ych a fi," he grumbled in Welsh to show his dismay, "You're up early"

"I couldn't sleep, I'm being productive. Look, I even made you breakfast." She pushed the toast before him, and he began to take mouthfuls. It wasn't long until he started to look more awake with each sip of coffee.

He chuckled, "Alright then, kid. I'm going to go and get dressed, then we'll head on out."

Isabelle nodded eagerly as he left to do as promised. Once he returned, he lead the two of them into the living room holding a golden post of what looked like sand. He placed it on the mantelpiece then turned to Isabelle.

"Alright seren, here's the agenda. In the wizarding world we have a method of travel called floo travel. It's much quicker than muggle travel. You'll need to get into the fireplace, take some of the floo powder, throw it on the floor and say _very _clearly the destination you're going to; in this case, Diagon Alley. Is that clear?"

Isabelle nodded, "I think so."

"Cool. you go first, and I will follow you through."

Isabelle felt somewhat nervous about this, but nodded despite it. She took a handful of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace. It was surreal, standing in the fireplace with the notion of travelling inside of it.

"Whenever you're ready" Daniel smiled encouragingly.

She took a deep breath, threw the powder to the floor and said, "Diagon Alley!"

She was suddenly engulfed in a vast array of green flames and began to feel very nauseous very quickly. As she was spun, she could almost feel her insides twisting sickly. It was the strangest sensation she had ever felt, as though she was in some kind of malfunctioning rollercoaster ride. However, it wasn't long before she stumbled out of a completely different fireplace, still regaining composure when Daniel came through.

"Ah, it's the perfect day for it" Daniel breathed in the fresh summer air., ignoring the way she glared at him for putting her through this floo travel process. However, she soon collected herself, she took the time to finally take in her surroundings.

They had appeared on a cobbled street lined with many different shops, all bright and colourful with outside displays and workers calling and inviting in customers to look at their wares. Isabelle's attention was drawn from a wizarding pet shop, to book shops, a robe shop and a broomstick shop. She could barely believe her eyes. The street was already bustling and busy with other parents with young students ticking off various items from their lists.

Isabelle reached into her bag that was placed across her body and checked she had her list, the thought of going back into the floo network made her stomach flip.

"First things first, Gringotts wizarding bank. We can get you some money, and I'll need to get some too. I haven't used wizarding money in eleven years."

The two trekked down the street, and Isabelle was trying not to miss a thing. There was ice cream parlours with many different flavours she'd never even considered, there was a potions shop, one for stationary and another for books.

At the end of the street, Daniel finally approached a large door, and held it open for Isabelle to enter.

"This is Gringotts, its run by goblins. Stay close, they aren't the kindest of creatures." Daniel muttered, and upon seeing them, she didn't need telling twice.

Daniel approached one very official looking goblin and cleared his throat. "Hi. I'd like to make withdrawals for both Daniel Johnson and Isabelle Potter."

The goblin seemed to be interested by the latter name, and perched over his desk to take a look at Isabelle, who kept her chin up in some kind of fake sense of confidence.

"Do you have the keys?"

Daniel slid them forward on the desk, and the Goblin took them. "Let's go."

Isabelle wasn't too fond of the floo network, but the cart to the vaults weren't much better. She was thankful when it finally stopped off to collect Daniel's money. He went inside, took various sized and coloured coins before exiting. They made a short walk to vault 688, it was then it dawned on Isabelle that _why on Earth should she have any money?_

Daniel seemed to sense the confusion and smiled, "Your Mum and Dad didn't leave you with nothing, you know."

The door swung open, and Isabelle was stunned to see mounds upon mounds of golden, silver and bronze coins. She entered with Daniel and opened her bag, mesmerized by the shining material in front of her as Daniel began picking up money for her.

On the cart ride back, Daniel began briefly explaining wizarding money and its worth.

Then, they exited the bank and started the process Isabelle had been most excited about.

"We should get you some robes first," Daniel said, "It's still early so it's probably best to get you in there before it gets too busy. They always make your robes to fit."

Isabelle nodded and followed Daniel to Madam Malkins. Inside she was placed on a stool, and the lady didn't hesitate to start measuring her up while Daniel left, claiming he needed to get a few bits and pieces for himself while she got that done.

Mid-measuring, the doorbell chimed to indicate a customer had arrived. "Ah, hello there! First year? Come and pop yourself up on the stool, I'll just go and fetch my colleague!"

The lady measuring Isabelle ran into the back calling for another woman while a girl stepped up beside Isabelle on another stool. She grinned at Isabelle with a toothy grin.

"Hello. I'm Hermione! It's a pleasure to meet you, are you going to Hogwarts as well?"

Hermione spoke so quickly Isabelle was almost blown off her stool. The girl looked excited, as shown by her big brown eyes. She was pretty with bushy brown hair and muggle clothing.

"Yes, I'm going to Hogwarts, it'll be my first year."

"Oh, me too! I'm so excited. I've already read all about Hogwarts. What house do you think you'll be in? I think I'd be the most happy with either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, but of course I don't mind _what _house I'm put in as long as I'm there!"

Despite the fact Isabelle still felt like a deer in Hermione (headlights) she found herself scraping for words. "I'd like to be in Slytherin." She stated, knowing that was the house Daniel was in from what he was telling her last night.

"Oh, really? From what I understand from books there wasn't a witch or wizard that went bad that wasn't in Slytherin, even you-know-who, did you know that?"

Isabelle was taken aback by the statement, she narrowed her eyes in a sudden dislike of the girl's attitude. "I don't think it really matters. You can't judge all Slytherin's because of a select few who made bad choices."

Hermione nodded, "of course, of course! It's just what I've read in books."

"Sometimes there's more important things than books and cleverness." Isabelle rose her chin, then pointed her focus back on the dressmaker as she came back with her colleague. Hermione seemed a little startled by the statement, and didn't speak for a while as she was measured.

It wasn't long until the two girls were finished and the dressmakers were making finishing touches to the robes. The two girls sat on chairs by the windows while they waited.

Isabelle cut the stony silence. "I'm sorry for what I said about there being more to life than books. I… I didn't mean it, I just, my uncle was in Slytherin and I wasn't sure how to react."

Hermione shook her head, "Don't be daft. I was the one who started making stupid comments. How could I be so unthoughtful! I'm terribly sorry."

The two girls smiled at each other, there was a mutual understanding passing without words. It was clear neither of them were particularly good with other people, and it was clear to Isabelle that Hermione was most likely in the same unpopular status as she was in school before. The two shared a handshake as the dressmakers emerged from the back.

"They're ready girls."

The girls collected their robes, and as if on cue, Daniel showed up after a long time spent doing whatever he needed to.

"Well, I ought to go and find my parents now I've got my robes. It was awfully nice meeting you…"

"Izzy"

"Izzy! It was awfully nice meeting you, Izzy! Enjoy the rest of your summer, I'll look forward to seeing you at school!" Hermione grinned, then departed the shop. Daniel raised his eyebrows at Isabelle as the door chimed behind him.

"Look at you making friends already."

"I don't like it. It's stressful being social."

Daniel laughed, "come on, we've still got lots left to buy."

The rest of the day consisted of entering many different shops and buying many items that Isabelle had never even considered ever needing. She had numerous books and potion ingredients, quills, ink and parchment. All she needed now was an animal and a wand.

"Why don't you run along to Ollivanders and I'll be with you shortly. I just remembered one last thing that I need to buy."

Ollivanders was a small and dusty shop. It was dark with eerie glows from lamps in corners. It seemed empty, the owner must have been off in the back somewhere as Isabelle called out to see if anyone responded. Then, a sharp click, and a man appeared from the shadows, making Isabelle jump. "Ah, Miss Potter. At last."

He got straight to work, and started rummaging through mounds of different boxes.

It was strange to Isabelle that he knew her by name without her needing to introduce herself. She wished Daniel hadn't have left her alone. Pushing her insecurities aside, she extended her hand to take a wand that Ollivander had finally decided on allowing her to try.

"Give it a wave." He instructed, as though it was clear she should have tried that sooner.

She did just that, but a stack of books flew in every direction, one almost clocked Mr Ollivander in the head, he moved to dodge it just in time.

"No, no definitely not!" He took the wand from her and began muttering to himself. "That one didn't work for Mr Potter either, I wonder if…"

"Mr Potter? Harry? My brother was here?" Isabelle asked suddenly.

Ollivander looked up, "Why yes. He was here just minutes before yourself."

He proceeded into the back of the shop, and her heart pounded.

When he came back, he looked curious, passing Isabelle a wand as though he wasn't sure what the outcome would be. She took the wand in her hand, and a tingling sensation washed over her body like a wave of the sea. A glow lit from the end, though Ollivander shivered as though the temperature had suddenly dropped to minus numbers.

"How curious indeed."

"Curious?" Isabelle asked as Ollivander began wrapping the wand up in a box for her to take away.

"Your wand is fourteen inch of elm wood with a unicorn hair mixed with a phoenix feather core, Ms Potter. It is curious that this wand is destined for you because the wand chooses the wizard, and it isn't entirely clear why _this wand _has chosen you."

Isabelle wasn't sure if she was plain stupid or if this man was simply talking in riddles, "I'm sorry. I don't understand what you're telling me, sir."

Ollivander looked at her. "There were three phoenix feathers for wand making, obviously your wand has one feather, your brother has the other, but the third…" he shivered, "well, it gave you that scar."

Isabelle felt sick to the stomach. "One thing that isn't curious Ms Potter is that we can be sure to expect great things from you. After all, he-who-must-not-be-named did great things. Terrible! Oh yes, but great."

Ollivander extended out the package, and Isabelle carefully took it. She gave him an awkward sort of smile before bidding her farewell. "Well, thank you Mr Ollivander." Then, she departed, lurking around outside until she caught a glimpse of Daniel striding toward her with a bird cage.

"It's a little early, but I bought you a little something for your birthday. I saw her in the shop and just couldn't leave her there" Daniel beamed, presenting her with the most beautiful black owl that had large eyes and white specks running through its feathers.

"She's beautiful!"

"I passed a boy on the way here that decided to call his owl Hedwig, I thought that was a good name." Daniel said as the two began making their way back to the floo network.

"I like that name too, but I can't use that one. Maybe I should call her… Hilda."

"Hilda?" Daniel chuckled. "Somehow I think it suits her."

"Hilda it is then." Isabelle said grinning. Then, her grin faltered.

"Daniel… when I was in Ollivanders, the wandmaker told me that Harry had been in there just minutes before myself."

Daniel smiled, "You know what that means then, don't you?"

"What?" Isabelle asked stupidly,

"He'll be going to Hogwarts." Daniel explained, a glint in his eyes.

Isabelle felt a warm sensation filling her. The absolute excitement she'd been feeling since the previous day wasn't for nothing. She was going to be meeting her brother, and soon at that. She continued to smile to herself, though soon stopped when she remembered the nauseated feeling of being in the fireplace when they reached it.

Daniel laughed, "You'll get used to it, seren."

"I don't think I ever will."


	4. The Hogwarts Express

Isabelle could feel her insides flipping as she pushed her trolley through Kings Cross Station in London. The overwhelming feeling that this was _actually _happening had finally hit her, and it had been no less of a feeling than having a bucket of ice chucked over her head. It had taken her a long while that morning to check everything, then double check, and then check again just to make sure that there was nothing she had forgotten.

Daniel had assured her that it would be more than easy to send her anything she'd left behind by owl to her at school, and what was the only thing that stopped her from making a fourth check of her trunk.

"Platform nine and three quarters is just through that wall." Daniel said, pointing the brick pillar between platforms nine and ten. Isabelle looked at him as though he had just grown a second head and another set of arms.

"You're kidding, aren't you?"

Daniel laughed, then lowered his voice, "Izzy, dear. In this past week you have found out you're a witch, travelled by fireplace and read books on potion making. You're just _now _wondering if I'm kidding?"

Isabelle was taken aback, "okay, sure. Fair point."

"Run straight at the wall, you'll be fine. I'll make sure no muggles are watching."

Isabelle took a deep breath, then went for it. Her eyes squeezed shut suspected impact (and a couple of broken ribs), however that never came. When she opened her eyes again she was stood before a magnificent scarlet train, with 'The Hogwarts Express' printed bold and golden on the front of the train proudly while the steam cascaded around the letters.

"This way, Iz. I'll help you get your trunk on the train."

The two found an empty compartment and quickly managed to put Isabelle's trunk above the seats after getting her school uniform out that she would later need to change into.

"Here we are then," Daniel sighed, "I'll see you at Christmas time."

It dawned on Isabelle that this would happen. Though she didn't expect it to be so difficult. It had just been her and Daniel against the world for the last five years of her life, it didn't seem right that he wouldn't be there at Hogwarts with her.

"I'll make sure to write." Isabelle offered a smile to hide the sadness inside of her, or the tears that were threatening to spill.

"You best had young lady. I didn't buy you Hilda for nothing."

Isabelle laughed, then embraced her uncle one final time before she'd be setting off on the biggest adventure of her life. "I'll see you soon Daniel."

He kissed her head, then pulled away. "See you soon, seren. I love you, kid."

"I love you too." She grinned, and watched as he departed the train, then rushed to the window to watch him leave the station. He waved at her, before vanishing before her very eyes. She sat back in her seat, and willed herself to stay strong even though her stomach was hollow inside at what felt like a terrible loss.

Isabelle found herself wallowing in her own self pity for a good while until she decided she was being stupid and needed to pull herself together. She was going to Hogwarts after all! In that moment, she decided she'd pull out another one of her potions books to read, but that was when she was interrupted by a boy sticking his head around the compartment door.

"You don't mind if I join you, do you? Everywhere else is full"

"Not at all." Isabelle smiled at the boy.

He dragged his trunk inside the compartment, then Isabelle helped him as they attempted to raise it above the seats. It took a lot of struggling, and a good load of giggling, but they finally managed to shove it into a position where it wouldn't fall when the train started moving. The two grinned in triumph at one another, then took seats opposite.

The boy looked out the window briefly, seemingly amusing himself with a family of redheads. A short, red haired woman was pointedly telling a set of much taller redheaded twins that she would be absolutely furious if they sent a Hogwarts toilet.

Isabelle took this opportunity to take in the boys appearance, however. He shared the same pale complexion, though his hair was straight, jet black and messy. He had the most piercing set of emerald eyes behind some glasses that were hardly holding themselves together and he was slight. So slight, in fact, Isabelle would classify him as skinny - he looked like he hadn't eaten a full meal in his entire life.

The boy seemed to sense Isabelle's gaze on him, and turned to smile at her.

"I'm Isabelle by the way," She introduced herself, "Isabelle Potter. You can just call me Izzy"

The boy sat rigid for a moment, shifting to look somewhat uncomfortable as though he was at a loss of words to say. It was then that Isabelle remembered how people had reacted to her in Diagon Alley, she really was, by Daniel's description, famous.

Whatever Isabelle was expecting the boy to say, didn't come close to what he actually said.

"It's nice to meet you Izzy. I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

The two stared at each other in awe. Then, a grin broke out on both of their faces. Isabelle lunged forward to hug her long-lost brother. It wasn't a long hug, but it was meaningful. She pulled away and took her seat opposite him once more, feeling awfully emotional by the whole thing, she found her heart pounding in her chest.

"Hagrid told me everything about a month ago," Harry said softly, "I didn't know I had any other family, other than the Dursley's of course."

"Really?" Isabelle gasped, "you didn't know until now? I've known about you my whole life! I mean, I didn't know about magic until I got my Hogwarts letter but still. I did try to find you but our aunts hadn't spoken in years even before we were born so, we didn't know where on the planet you would be."

Harry shrugged, "It's probably for the best. The Dursley's are awful, trust me. They didn't tell me anything about the wizarding world, or you, or our parents. I had to learn it all from Hagrid a few days back. I suppose learning late is better than nothing at all."

Isabelle looked at him pitifully, though the way his eyes directed to the window showed he probably didn't want to talk about his family life, so Isabelle proceeded with. "Who's Hagrid?"

"Oh," Harry smiled, looking back at her. "He's the keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts. He's brilliant - you're going to love hi-"

Harry was cut short of his sentence by a boy poking his head awkwardly around the compartment door. He was a little taller than Isabelle and Harry but was still rather thin. He had red hair like the twins and their mother on the platform with sea blue eyes and freckles scattered across his entire face.

"Sorry, er - everywhere else is full, do you mind if I join you two?"

"Not at all," Harry smiled, indicating with his arms that the boy should come in.

It was much easier with three of them putting up the trunk, especially since Ron had that little extra height. There was barely any time before the three were sat down, and the train began rolling. Isabelle was starting to feel very excited.

"I'm Ron by the way, Ron Weasley." The boy smiled kindly.

"I'm Harry Potter, and this is my sister, Izzy." Harry introduced, looking chuffed at his introduction. Isabelle knew the triumph he felt, because her heart flipped at the word 'my sister,' she hadn't been so happy in a very long time.

However, the two of them didn't seem to be the only ones on the emotional rollercoaster. Ron looked as though he'd just been slapped; his jaw hung open. He quickly closed it as his cheeks redden embarrassedly.

"Do you really h-have the scars?" He stammered

Isabelle raised her finger, revealing the lightning bolt cut on her forehead, and Harry proceeded to make the same action. The two of them grinned at one another while Ron stared in disbelief, his eyes so wide that they looked like they could pop right out of their sockets.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to this," Isabelle said.

"What do you mean?" Ron inquired,

"I was always teased at school for my scar, however everyone seems fascinated in the wizarding world."

Harry nodded in agreement.

Ron tilted his head to one side. "Harry and Isabelle Potter being laughed at for their scars - trust me, there won't be any of that at Hogwarts. Do you remember getting your scars?"

Harry shrugged, "too young to remember. Though I do seem to remember a great green flash whenever I try and think about it."

He looked at Isabelle as though to confirm she had the same experience. She nodded, "Yeah, me too, that and male laughter."

Ron shuddered at even the reference to Voldemort. Isabelle decided that it was time to change the subject, "did you grow up with muggles too, Ron?"

Ron looked gloomy at the question, "No. Full family of wizards. I'm the sixth in my family to go to Hogwarts, I have five older brothers and a younger sister, she'll be starting next year. I have a lot to live up to, I can say that already. Plus, when you have so many siblings, it just makes sense to have pass-me-downs. Even my rat used to be Percy's, he got a new owl for becoming a prefect, but my parents couldn't affo- I mean, It made sense for me to have Scabbers. He's pathetic though." His ears bloomed bright red, and quickly reached into his pockets to divert from where he had clearly messed up.

"Bloody hell, he's even still asleep now. He barely ever wakes up."

"I'm sure you'll be able to get an owl soon enough." Isabelle smiled encouragingly.

Harry then perked up, "there's nothing wrong with not having money, you know. I didn't have any until a month ago when I met Hagrid and found out I had an inheritance. I've grown up wearing my cousin's clothes, but he's the size of a killer whale. I'm actually showcasing some of his clothes right now." He said, indicating to the gigantic shirt tucking into a large pair of jeans that were only held up by a belt that could've been wrapped around him another three times.

Ron smiled, appreciative of the gesture.

"I'm going to be the worst at Hogwarts, I've got a lot to learn. Until I met Hagrid, I didn't know about anything. I didn't know about magic, Isabelle, Voldemort-"

Ron gasped loudly.

"What?" Isabelle wondered.

"Y-you said his name!"

Harry looked startled, "see, I barely know anything. I've got loads to learn - I didn't know we're not supposed to do that."

Ron shook his head, "you'll learn fast enough."

The three continued to chatter. Ron talked about his family and various bits of the wizarding world that had been omitted from Isabelle and Harry's lives until this very point in time. They discussed houses, Hogwarts, Quidditch, international Quidditch (Isabelle decided that she would be supporting the Welsh team from here on out, much to Ron's dismay), and other things at random until they were interrupted again at about half past twelve, when a clunking noise outside the compartment disturbed them.

A lady popped inside, smiling kindly and saying, "anything off the sweet trolley dears?"

"I'm alright," Ron said grimly holding up squashed sandwiches, "I'm all set."

"We'll take three of everything." Harry stated, holding out some money towards the lady. She helped him carry all of the loads into the compartment before moving on.

Isabelle looked at him with wide eyes, "hungry, are you?"

"I didn't eat breakfast," he chuckled, "I also wanted to treat the two of you."

"Oh no, you really didn't have to do that." Ron said embarrassedly, but it didn't take much persuasion to get him to switch the sandwiches for a pumpkin pasty instead.

The three of them tucked in, and for the first few minutes there was little chatter. Once their stomachs started to fill, they began talking once more.

"Ooh, Harry. Try one of these." Isabelle said, chucking him over a chocolate frog. "I got one for my birthday, they're really nice. Just be careful, there's a charm on the frog to make it jump out once you open up the box."

"If you get Agrippa let me know, I'm missing that card." Ron intercepted with a mouth full.

Harry looked somewhat confused by all the information being thrown at him but did as he was told. He opened it up, but stupidly let the frog jump out the window. Isabelle laughed. Harry didn't seem to bothered however, and went to rip out his card.

"I got Dumbledore!" He exclaimed exitedly, getting the card out.

"I've got about six of him." Ron said, looking fairly dismissive by it, though Harry could have been holding a plate of gold.

"Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling." Harry read aloud.

Ron nodded as thought this was primary knowledge.

Isabelle reached for a box of Bertie Botts, and picked out a cherry coloured one. Ron chuckled, "Oh, you best be careful with those. When it says every flavour, it _means _every flavour. You get the normal ones like chocolate, toffee and so on, but you can also get spinach, liver and tripe. George swears he got a bogey flavoured one once."

Isabelle's face scrunched up, but bit the bullet, and was relieved to feel an apple taste filling her mouth.

The three then started taking it in turns trying the beans. Isabelle had a few good and bad ones, but nothing she'd every categorise as bad as bogey, fortunately!

"George told me about a spell to turn Scabbers yellow, do you want to see?" Ron asked.

"Yeah!" Both Harry and Isabelle exclaimed, both eager to see magic.

Ron pointed his wand at the rat, but the compartment door suddenly opened.

A girl stood there, hands on her hips and eyes darting from each corner of the compartment in a judgemental way. She eyes the sweet wrappers, her eyes turning from somewhat confused to a look of dismay. Isabelle recognised this girl from Diagon Alley. She was already dressed fully in her dress robes, and her hair was tied back off her face.

"Have any of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost one… Oh, hello Isabelle, how are you?" Hermione asked, suddenly smiling.

"I'm good thanks, Hermione how are you?" Isabelle returned the niceties, admittedly feeling a little relieved that she knew someone else going to Hogwarts, even after their slight run-in at Diagon Alley.

"Excellent, thank you." She looked around, then pointedly stared at Ron, "are you doing magic?"

Ron's ears went pink, "Well… uh."

Hermione helped herself to a seat beside Isabelle. "Let's see then!"

Ron looked sheepish. He cleared his throat and began to swish his wand. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!"

Nothing happened.

Hermione scoffed, "are you sure that's a _real _spell? Well, it's not very good, is it? I've already tried a few simple ones myself, but they've all worked for me."

She turned to Harry, and pointed her wand at his face. Before anyone could do anything she said, _"oculus reparo!" _

The sellotape holding Harry's glasses together disappeared in a flash, there was no need for it anymore, because the glasses were fixed. Harry, looking a little pale, thanked her nonetheless.

"I know you," Hermione gasped, "you're Harry Potter!"

She suddenly stopped herself from talking, looked like she was thinking for a moment before turning to look at Isabelle. "That must make you Isabelle Potter. Oh, how could I be so stupid! I'm incredibly sorry! I've read all about the two of you!" She stopped to take a breath before marking her eyes back on Ron, "And you are?"

"Ron Weasley." He grumbled.

"Pleasure. I'm Hermione Granger." She stood up. "Well, I best keep looking for Neville's toad, let me know if you see him."

She was about to close the compartment door, then changed her mind and poked her head back in, looking at Ron with a disapproving look. "You have dirt on your nose by the way, did you know? Just there" She pointed, then finally took her exit while Ron pinkishly rubbed his nose.

The train sounded loudly, and an announcement echoed down the halls that all students, if not already in their uniforms, should change, because they were scheduled to be arriving soon. The three began shifting and getting their clothes, Isabelle went to exit the compartment to find the girls changing rooms, but not so fast that she didn't hear Ron say,

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope it's not with that Hermione Granger."


	5. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Firs' years this way please! Come on this way, don't be shy!"

Harry excitedly moved forward, Ron and Isabelle not trailing far behind. "Hello Hagrid!" Harry grinned.

The giant grinned back, "Ah, 'ello there Harry. See you met young Mr Weasley an' oh, look… its Isabelle Potter, las' time I saw you, you was this big!" He exclaimed, making a gesture with his hands, causing Isabelle to laugh.

They didn't talk for long, Hagrid went back to calling for the first years before signalling them forward towards a narrow path that lead to a large scope of water with many wooden boats waiting. All the students clambered in. Isabelle ended up sharing with Ron, Harry and an Irish boy named Seamus Finnigan.

"Everyone in? Alright then! _Forward!" _

The boats moved magically by themselves, but there wasn't much time to dwell on that as the castle came into sight, and there as an eruption of 'oohh's' and 'aahh's' from every boat as though they were attending a fireworks display.

The castle was huge, much bigger than Isabelle had ever anticipated. Behind the stained glass windows were the glowing of candles, and minor details of classrooms and dorms, though it was hard to see from such a distance.

It wasn't long before all the students were lead to a large oak door, and that is where Hagrid left them with a very stern looking teacher - one that you could tell in an instant that you don't want to cross, she introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, then lead the students to another set of doors.

"In a moment, I am going to take you all through these doors and the sorting ceremony will begin. You will be placed into one of four houses: Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. While you are here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points, but any rule breaking will result in losing house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the house cup, which is a great honour, so make sure to work hard in classes, and behave outside of them. Now, I am going to go inside and make sure everything is ready, please wait here quietly."

The Professor disappeared behind the large doors, and one loud voice took over from where she left off.

"Is it true then?" The tone was snobbish, "Are Harry and Isabelle Potter actually at Hogwarts?"

A blonde boy stepped before the crowd of first years. He was very pale, like snow, and had grey eyes. He smirked confidently, like he didn't have a care or regard for those around him. Though his statement did cause muttering and whispering amongst the first years.

"Yes." Isabelle said with equal confidence.

The boy looked directly at her, then Harry, who was stood beside her with his scar on show.

"Pleasure. This is Crabbe and Goyle, and I'm Malfoy. Draco, Malfoy."

Ron sniggerd, but Draco Malfoy didn't take too kindly to the reaction. "Think my names funny, do you? Well, there's no need to as you yours. Freakish red hair, and scraggy hand-me-down robes, you must be a _Weasley." _his tone disgusted Isabelle, she glared as he turned back to her.

"You'll soon find out that some families in the wizarding world are better than others, you don't want to be making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Harry stepped forward, "I think we can tell the wrong sort for ourselves, thanks."

Draco looked taken aback, but he didn't have time to think of a response, because McGonagall was back. "We're ready for you all now." She spoke with a smile.

The doors swung open, and Isabelle was faced with utter astonishment.

She couldn't remember walking from the entrance to the front of the hall when she got there, but she must have been moving one foot in front of the other as she took in every detail that she could in bewilderment.

There were four long tables, one for each house, and many banners hung on the walls with painting of different crests. Isabelle supposed those were the emblems for the four houses. There was a roaring fireplace on one end, then, at the head was a line of teachers, all taking their first looks at the first years they'd be getting to know in the coming year.

"When I call your name, I want you to come up and sit on the stool. I will then place the sorting hat on your head and it will decide which house you are going to be in for the rest of your Hogwarts journey. But first, the sorting hat's song."

Isabelle wasn't sure if McGonagall was joking by the hats song, but nobody laughed. In fact, they silenced entirely, not a single whisper in the whole hall. The hat leapt to life on the stool.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands

though I have none

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The great hall erupted into clapping and whistling. The hat bowed towards each house, then became still once more.

McGonagall picked up a large roll of parchment and announced, "Abbott, Hannah"

A blonde haired girl tentatively stepped forward. Her face was entirely flushed pink in embarrassment, she shaked a little as she sat on the stool. The hat wasn't very long on her head before it announced, "Hufflepuff!"

The Hufflepuff table cheered as she skipped down the steps with a grin on her face.

"Bones, Susan"

"Hufflepuff!" The hat announced, and Susan went to go and join Hannah.

"Boot, Terry"

"Ravenclaw! The hat announced, and the list went on.

Hermione was placed in Gryffindor, much to Ron's dismay. So was Neville, the boy that had lost his toad earlier. The hat had barely touched Draco Malfoy's head before it declared him a Slytherin.

It didn't seem like much time at all before Harry was called up. The hall rupted in whispers, Isabelle heard 'Potter' being said in many different locations. While Harry left her side, it dawned on her that this meant that she was next. She found herself quivering in nerves while she watched Harry sit on the stool.

Then, silence.

Harry was sat with the hat for a long while before it announced him a….

"Gryffindor!"

Isabelle held her breath.

"Potter, Isabelle"

Shakily, she took to the steps. Her heart racing. Her name had sparked the same response as Harry's, though she tried not to focus on that. She sat on the stool, and the hat fell over her eyes. It made her jump when a voice appeared in her head.

"Ah, Isabelle Potter. I have been eager to meet you." The hat's voice rung in her head, "hmmm interesting, very interesting. A determination like no other and a motivation to prove your worthiness no matter the cost… where to put you, Isabelle Potter"

'Gryffindor, please. I want to be in Gryffindor.'

"Gryffindor, eh? Your brother requested that too… think about this now. You could do great things in Slytherin, that house will lead you to your greatness. Your worthiness will be proven there, that is for certain."

While this seemed temping under any other circumstance, all Isabelle could think of was the word 'greatness' and how Ollivander had used it that day in Diagon Alley to describe Lord Voldemort. The last thing she wanted was to be lead down the same path as the killer of her parents. She couldn't bare the thought of even slightly being lead astray.

'I want to be with Harry in Gryffindor' she thought firmly.

"The bravery of asking… very well, I can't deny you of blood, after all, there is nothing more important than family. _Gryffindor!" _

Isabelle heard an eruption of clapping as the hat came away from her eyes, she grinned, and skipped down the steps. Many Gryffindors had already rose to their feet as she arrived there, and tried to shake her hand as she took a seat. A pair of two redheaded twins (presumably Ron's twin brothers that be briefly mentioned on the train), were chanting "We got the Potters, We got the Potters!"

"Quieten down now!" McGonagall called over the noise, but looking pointedly at the twins specifically and carried on the name-calling process.

As the rest of the students were being placed, Isabelle took the time to look over the Professors. The first one that struck her was one that had already beaten her in in making eye-contact. He was pale face and grim looking, he looked disinterested and irritable. His hair was greasy, black and fell around his shoulders in a dead-straight fashion, his nose was hooked and his eyes were so dark, Isabelle wondered if there was anything behind them.

His attention was diverted when the Professor in purple, with a turban wrapped around his head turned to talk to him, and Isabelle felt a pain in her scar so painful she hadn't felt anything so excruciating since those nightmares with the green flashes.

Her hand rose to her forehead, and in the corner of her eye, she saw Harry do the same.

"You okay?" Isabelle mouthed to her brother, who nodded.

"Yeah, are you?"

She nodded, looked back at the table to see the Professor in black staring at her again, only this time, he looked away when she caught his eye. There was something strange about him.

"Weasley, Ronald"

The hat didn't take as short of a time to decide as he did with Draco Malfoy, but it wasn't far off. It was perhaps a mere few seconds until the hat shouted, "Gryffindor!"

Isabelle clapped loudly with the rest of the Gryffindors as Ron, red faced, joined them. Another redhead, possibly Percy, clapped him on the back and said, "well done, Ron, excellent."

Once the final few students had been sorted into their houses, Dumbledore rose to his feet. He opened his arms out wide as though he was extending a hug across the room, his eyes glinted as though there was nothing that pleased him more than seeing the students all sat before him.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

Isabelle looked around as everyone began clapping, and thus joined in. she wasn't entirely sure if she should laugh or not. Seemingly she wasn't the only one who was thinking it, because Harry was soon asking Percy, "Dumbledore… I mean, is he - a bit mad?"

"Mad? Albus Dumbledore is the greatest sorcerer in the world… but yes, he is a little bit mad. Potatoes, Harry?"

It was only then that Isabelle noticed that the once empty table was no brimming with plates of every kind of food she could imagine. Various meats such as steak, bacon, sausages or pork, with an array of other foods such as yorkshire puddings, potatoes and vegetables. She barely knew where to start.

It wasn't until she started tucking in that she caught a glimpse of the ghosts flying around the room. One ghost popped up through the table, causing Ron to drop the chicken drumstick he was gnawing into.

"Hello!" The ghost greeted and glided up above them. "Welcome to Gryffindor. I am the Gryffindor ghost."

"I know you," perked up Seamus, "you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I prefer Sir Nicholas if you don't mind." The ghost stated, looking very offended.

"Nearly headless? How can you be nearly headless?" Hermione asked, but everyone wished she hadn't once he pulled on his neck, making it drop onto his shoulder as though attached my a hinge.

"Like that," he smirked, clearly satisfied that no one would question that again (for at least another year.)

"I hope you first years are prepared to start earning points. The Bloody Baron has been insufferable recently - Slytherin has won for six years in a row now."

Isabelle presumed The Bloody Baron was the Slytherin ghost that was currently beside a very uncomfortable looking Malfoy. She smiled to herself at the sight.

The feast continued and somehow, it only got better. When the food cleared from the plates with a wave of Dumbledore's hand, it was suddenly replaced with more deserts than Isabelle could even list. While Harry tucked into a treacle tart, Isabelle ate a slice of cheesecake, then some ice cream in flavours she'd never tasted before but tasted magnificent all the same.

"Isabelle Potter," one of the twins spoke from beside her. "What an honour it is to meet you." He held a smirk on his lips, and Isabelle could tell that he was mocking all those who were in awe of her. He, interestingly, did not seem to be. At least not for the scar on her head, but rather, much deeper than that.

"An honour?" She scoffed, "trust me, I'm much happier to be meeting all of you."

He shook his head, "you're modest, dear."

Isabelle laughed, "So, what's your name?"

"Fred Weasley, the one and only. I'll be impressed if you can remember though, not many people can distinct between myself and George."

Isabelle let her head fall to one side and inspected his face, before turning to his twin brother, who was preoccupied speaking to Lee Jordan.

"I'm sure I'll manage." She said, smiling, taking his statement as a challenge of sorts.

"We'll see, Isabelle Potter."

"Izzy, please. There's no need for formalities." She laughed, waving her hand at him dismissively. There wasn't many times her full titles was ensued upon her.

"Alright, then I stand corrected. Izzy, it's a pleasure to meet you." Fred dropped his cutlery and held out his hand, Isabelle followed suit to shake it,

"The pleasure is all mine." she grinned.

The students continued to chatter through the meal, Isabelle and Harry making light conversation about their lives before this point while Ron talked with this older twin brothers and Hermione excitedly talked at anyone who would listen, for now it was Percy, and she was telling him how unbelievably excited she was to start learning in transfiguration. While a few other students talked about their parents and if they were witches or wizards. To Isabelle's relief, it seemed there was other students who had grown up in muggle families, like Ron had assured her on the train.

Once Hermione had diverted her attention to Neville, Isabelle took the opportunity to question Percy, who had proudly proclaimed himself the Gryffindor Prefect.

"Percy, if you don't mind, could you tell me who is that teacher is over there, beside the one in the purple?"

"Not at all, Izzy. That's Professor Snape, the one in the purple is Professor Quirrell. Snape is the Potions master, but everyone knows it's the dark arts he fancies. He's been after Quirrell's job for years." Percy explained.

Isabelle eyed Snape closely, but he did not look at her again.

By the time the plates were cleared, Isabelle was well and truly stuffed.

Dumbledore raised from his seat once more, and the hall fell silent. It amazed Isabelle. Not a single whisper evokes while the headmaster took control. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I have just a few start of term notices to announce. First years should note that the forest on the grounds it forbidden to all pupils. A few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." He gave a pointed stare towards the Weasley twins before proceeding.

"I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held on the second week of term. Anyone interested should contact their house team Captains, or Madam Hooch in advance, and finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to a die a very painful death."

The students all exchanged glances, and it relieved Isabelle to see that even the older students seemed a little stumped by this news.

"And now, a song before we all depart for bed!" Dumbledore flicked his wand and a long golden ribbon streamed out and began to form words. "Off we go!"

The entire school rose to their feet and bellowed at the top of their lungs:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot, just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

Everyone finished the song in different tunes and times, Isabelle laughed as the Weasley twins were left singing along last. Dumbledore conducted their final few lines, then clapped the loudest of all.

"Ah, music." He said, wiping his eyes, "A magic beyond all we do here. Now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years were told to follow Percy out of the Great Hall and to the dormitories. Isabelle stuck close to Harry, it seemed that even the paintings were pointing them out as they sluggishly tried to keep up with Percy's quick step. Eating so much food wasn't perhaps the greatest idea, Isabelle thought, now feeling as though her legs had turned to lead.

At the end of their long walk up the staircases, they were met with a large portrait of a very large woman in a silky pink dress. "Password?" she asked.

"_Caput Draconis,"_ Percy spoke officially, then, the portrait swung open. Everyone scrambled in.

The room was large with red and gold decorations. There was a fireplace in the far corner with plus armchairs set around the room. It felt warm and cosy, Isabelle could almost fall asleep on the spot.

Percy directed the girls on where to find their dorms, and then did the same for the boys. In all the confusion and tiredness, Isabelle and Harry were split for the night, but that was okay, for they had the entire year to catch up on patchy pasts.

Hermione, still full of energy, was delighted to have ended up sharing a room with Isabelle and two other girls named Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. Though the other three girls, still tired after their long day, vacated to bed instantly.

Isabelle slept better that night than she had done in her entire life.


	6. What's Better, Potions or Rock Cakes?

Whispers seemed to follow Isabelle and Harry like a continuous stream that week. It seemed that on every corner, people were staring in clusters, or giving a double take if the two walked past them in the hallway. Neither of them felt particularly comfortable under such circumstance, but there wasn't much they could do about it.

Isabelle was entirely overfaced by the castle as it was. It turned out that there was over four hundred staircases in the castle that moved on their own accord, some moved every five minutes, others led somewhere different on a Friday. Some of the doors weren't even real doors, and the occupants of the portraits on the walls moved about.

Though none of those things compared to the caretaker, Argus Filch and his cat, Mrs Norris. The two worked as a dynamic duo, and caught students out in every possible way they could. It seemed that Mr Filch knew every passageway in the castle, he seemed to just pop up randomly with that nasty smile on his face. Isabelle was yet to meet someone that didn't want to give Mrs Norris a good kick.

If you managed to get through all of that, _then _you then had to find classes. Isabelle had become so used to asking older students for directions that she no longer felt the anxiety of approaching them to ask.

That particular morning, however, was triumphant. Isabelle had managed to find her way to the Great Hall on time for breakfast without getting lost once. On arrival, it turned out only Harry was there, along with a few older students scattered around the hall. It was early - around seven, so she wasn't surprised that the hall was so empty.

"Morning!" Isabelle greeted brightly,

Harry grinned, "Morning, Iz."

Isabelle took the seat beside him and helped herself to some porridge as Harry tucked into his jam on toast.

"Potions today," Isabelle stated happily, "I've read a few books on it already over the past few days, it seems fascinating."

Harry's face dropped, "I've been dreading potions."

Isabelle went to console him on the matter, but voices cut over her before she went to speak. A figure sat behind her, and it didn't take her very long to realise it was one of the Weasley twins, the other opposite her, beside Harry.

"You have every reason to be scared, isn't that right George?" Fred stated from beside Harry, and George nodded.

"Indeed. Not only is Snape the most _terrifying _teacher in the school, he also favours the Slytherins. Don't mess up Potters, he takes points for _everything._"

Harry looked like he was no longer breathing, looked at Isabelle with a wide-eyed expression. "I told you he was dreadful."

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "Please, he really can't be that bad. Plus, he _can't _favour the Slytherins, teachers aren't allowed to show favoritism. McGonagall doesn't favour us."

The Weasley twins sniggered, "oh Isabelle, you innocent soul. You're going to be in for quite a shock." George stated, wrapping an arm around her shoulders while she shook her head.

"You're a pair of dolts." Isabelle said, though she couldn't keep the smile off her face.

The Weasley twins didn't hang around with Isabelle and Harry for long, they had woken up early for a reason. It seemed they didn't hold back on their pranking antics, and wanted to dive into it straight away. They were quick to eat their toast before making their way off somewhere Isabelle wasn't sure she wanted to be let in on. They passed Ron and Hermione on their way out.

"Morning," Ron greeted tiredly, yawning as he grabbed his breakfast.

Hermione rushed a "morning," then slammed a potions book on the table and started reading it, muttering to herself as she did so and taking the occasional bite of toast when someone reminded her it was getting cold.

It wasn't long before the four first years were making their way to the dungeons.

The potion room was dark, and not just because it was underground. There was little candle light, just enough to see what was going on around you. There were rows of desks that could have been there since the medieval ages and glass jars on shelves with floating contents.

While the desks were in rows, they were also in sets of two, and Isabelle found herself sat next to Seamus, while Ron took the desk beside Dean and Harry shared with Hermione.

The students engaged in light chatter until the potions door swung open, creaking on its hinges loudly before slamming into the wall. Professor Snape stormed to the front of the classroom, then, swiftly spun on his feet and bore his notorious glare upon the wide-eyed first years.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class."

He began to pace up and down the rows, stopping dead at Harry's desk. Snape looked over Harry sharply before turning his attention to Isabelle, who was only a row behind him.

"The Potters," he snarled, "our new _celebrities." _

Isabelle felt a furious burst in her chest when she heard Malfoy and his friend sniggering from across the room.

"Tell me, Mr Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry's face went pale as Hermione's hand shot in the air, "I don't know, sir."

"Pity, clearly fame isn't everything" Snape smirked, "what if I asked you to find me a bezoar, Mr Potter, where would you find it?"

As Snape expected, Harry didn't know.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Hermione's hand was quivering in the air now, almost standing in her seat in the hope to prove herself in front of the potions master.

"I don't know," Harry sighed, "I think Hermione does, though. Why don't you ask her?"

A few people laughed; Harry caught Seamus's eye, and Seamus winked. It seemed, however, that Snape was not impressed.

"Put your hand down you silly girl!" Snape snapped at Hermione, who slowly let her arm drift down to her side once more, looking a little disheartened.

It seemed that Fred and George weren't lying when they said that Snape was the absolute worst. Isabelle found herself biting her lip when Snape trailed before her desk.

"What about you, _Isabelle Potter, _did you manage to open up a textbook before entering my classroom?"

Isabelle looked at him, then said, "I did, sir."

Snape placed his hands on her desk, lowering his face before hers. "Prove it."

"Well, Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion, and a powerful one at that. It's known as the draught of the living death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and can be used as an antidote for poisons."

Snape looked taken aback, whatever he was expecting Isabelle to say, wasn't this.

"And monkshood and wolfsbane… are the same plant? Or something like that, I, I'm not entirely sure on this one… please, sir. If you don't mind, you're kind of in my face."

The classroom was dead silent for a couple of seconds before Snape moved suddenly and said, "Well, why aren't any of the rest of you copying this down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment, though Snape didn't stop looking at Isabelle, and she didn't back away. He watched her closely for a few seconds longer before turning his back on her and going to the front of the classroom.

Seamus nudged Isabelle, and grinned at her when she turned to look at him. It seemed she had done something not many students dared to do.

The rest of the potions class didn't go to well for Gryffindor. Harry lost house points for his 'cheek' and Neville lost points for making his potion so drastically wrong that the room began to smell of burning. The only reason Seamus and Isabelle didn't mess up was because Isabelle knew what she was doing, the risk of explosion seemed more likely with Seamus than anyone else. By the end of class, only Isabelle and Seamus had managed to produce a perfect potion. Hermione and Harry came close, but didn't quite get the correct shade of purple because Harry had mixed the potion the potion clockwise eight times rather than anti-clockwise three times. Hermione wasn't best impressed and didn't join them that afternoon.

"I was wrong," Harry said glumly, "Snape doesn't dislike me, he _hates _me."

Isabelle rubbed his back, "I wouldn't worry about it Harry."

Harry smiled at her, "I'm happy you stood up to him Iz."

Isabelle shook her head, "I didn't stand up to him I just answered his questions."

Ron laughed, "you answered the questions he didn't expect you to know, you showed him up. Didn't you see everyone's face? Even Malfoy couldn't have answered those questions."

"Let's go and see Hagrid," Harry suggested, "I could do with a friendly face after all that."

Isabelle and Ron agreed.

Isabelle loved Hagrid's hut as they approached it. It was small, wooden and on the edge of the forbidden forest. It was cute, with big windows and doors.

The inside was somehow more impressive. Mugs, and other kitchen items hung from the ceilings, there was a cosy corner for small kitchen appliances such as a kettle and some pots of tea and sugar, an area for comfy seating beside a fireplace and a large wooden round table with large seats suited to the size of a man like Hagrid.

"Make yerselves at home." Hagrid grinned.

The four talked about the first week back at Hogwarts. Isabelle, Harry and Ron talked extensively about how hard it is to find classes, keep up with homework _and _be on the lookout for Filch, waiting to dock points for the smallest thing. They were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git."

Then they talked about Snape's lesson, and like Isabelle, Hagrid told Harry not to worry.

"Don't give it another thought, Harry. Even I couldn't answer those questions. Though well done, Isabelle. You have a talent for potions like your Mother it seems."

Isabelle smiled.

Hagrid then turned to Ron, "how's Charlie doin'? I liked him a lot, he were great with animals."

Ron began to chat about the work Charlie does with dragons in Romania while Harry picked up a newspaper from the table. Isabelle peared over his shoulder to read a large, bold headline.

**GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST**

_Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown. _

_Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searches had in fact been emptied the same day. _

"Hagrid!" Harry suddenly burst, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"

Hagrid grumbled, clearly not wanting to talk about it. He stood up, "more cake anyone?"

"No thanks, Hagrid," Isabelle said politely, barely stomaching the thought of having another bite. She didn't have it in her to tell him that they tasted no better than rotten eggs.

"We should head back, actually." Harry peered at his watch,

Ron and Isabelle agreed, and the three gave Hagrid a farewell, before making their way back towards the castle.

"Was it just me, or did Hagrid seem quite shifty when you brought up the Gringotts break-in, Harry?" Isabelle asked.

Harry nodded indefinitely. "He told me not to mention it while we were there to anyone in Hogwarts. He said it was Hogwarts business, very secret."

"What was it?" Ron inquired,

"Not sure," Harry said, "It was wrapped up. It was a small brown package."

The three shared looks of uncertainty, but the entire thing had left all of their heads by the time they returned to the castle.

The rest of the day seemed to tick by rather quickly, it wasn't long until dinner had commenced in the Great Hall. Isabelle stayed for a short while to eat enough to fill her before informing her brother and Ron that she would go to the library for a while.

She had been looking forward to going to the library all week, however it didn't take her long to realise that Ron and Harry had no intention of using it any time soon.

She scouted many different sections, there was more than she had ever considered. Magical creatures, charms, transfiguration, textbooks, non-fiction, fiction… she found herself in awe of the beautiful binding and covers. She found herself drawing up to the restricted section and wondered what was behind the padlock, what magic could possibly be so mature that not all students could access it?

In the corner of her eye, Isabelle could see Madam Pince watching her, so she moved away, and directed herself back to the potions section and selected some that seemed first-year friendly.

"All these, dear?" Madam Pince asked, stamping their due dates inside the covers.

"Yes. I've decided I should start reading up on potions more. Hagrid tells me my Mum was a good potions mistress."

"Lily Potter? Yes, she was fantastic in the day. She could've given Professor Snape a run for his money. Now, make sure you don't damage these books-"

"I'll treat them as though they're my own, thank you, Madam Pince." Isabelle grinned, very much liking the prospect of her exceling to the standard of her Mother and giving Snape a challenge.

She eagerly made her way back to the common room, found herself a quiet space on the couch before the fire and got straight into her book.

She didn't last long until an interruption stopped her in her tracks.

"Miss Potter," A mocking monotone voice came from beside her, "where would you find me a Bezoar?"

Isabelle rolled her eyes when she saw a Weasley twin kneeling to the left of her.

"Where's your counterpart?" She asked,

"George? He's upstairs. We're going on out to cause mischief, he's just getting the final things we need. The secrets to our success if you will."

"I see," Isabelle said, not wanting to delve into his mischievous plan, she wasn't going to be an accomplice in his dirty work, especially if it meant Gryffindor was going to lose any more house points.

"Anyway, back to the more important matters, I heard you told Snape where to stick it."

"What? No! I just… I answered some questions."

"Some difficult ones at that," he responded.

"I only knew the answers because I'd done some reading in the summer,"

"Modest," Fred winked, scruffed up her hair and stood.

"Hey!" Isabelle spluttered, brushing her hair back into place as George descended down the stairs.

"Isabelle! Heard you gave Snape a hard time earlier, proud of you!" George grinned at her. She simply shook her head.

"Haven't you guys got anything better to do than ruining my reading session?"

"Oh Izzy, we know that you-" Fred began,

"Love us really," George finished.

She shook her head once more, though this time unable to keep the smile from taking over her lips.

The two grinned at her simultaneously, then exited the common room, finally leaving Isabelle in some piece to continue reading her book.

"Idiots," she muttered, rolling her eyes amusedly.

Sidenote: Hello again everyone! I hope you're enjoying the story so far - I know it's a little slow, I'm trying to get to the good parts I promise! This is just a little note to ask what you're thinking about the story so far? What are you enjoying, what do you think could be improved? Is there anything you would like to see happen in future chapters (or future books, for that mind), I'm interesting to know. You can either leave your ideas in the reviewing section or if you're not confident to post publically my inbox is always open. Maybe you don't want to review, you just want to talk about our mutual love for the Harry Potter universe. I'm to your disposal, ha! Anyway, I shall leave this here. Please continue to like/ favorite if you're enjoying so you get notified when I update (I'm fairly frequent.) Love you all! ~magieli


	7. The New Gryffindor Seeker

The golden sun poured through the large windows of the Great Hall, letting in a great spell of shimmering light across all the tables and radiating against the student's faces. It was a warm day, even outside in the turning seasons.

The sensation of it all reminded Isabelle of home somehow. She ate bacon on toast somewhat pitifully, the taste of it reminded her of home, of Daniel. All the castle needed was the strong smell of coffee and she'd be able to close her eyes and take herself there.

It wasn't that she didn't love Hogwarts, she did, more than anything. Though something about being away from her Uncle was strange for her, perhaps it was her youth and dependence until this point, perhaps it would get easier. Her mind took her to the starry night skies and lying on the sand with Daniel at her side as the waves crashed in the distance.

Her moment of reminiscence didn't stay for long though as she was interrupted by Neville, who had taken the empty seat beside her at the breakfast table, opposite Ron and Harry.

"Morning," he greeted them cheerfully.

Ron muffled something, but his mouth was so full of food that nothing intelligible came out. Isabelle pulled a face while Harry greeted Neville back for all of them.

It wasn't long until other first years started coming in and helping themselves to breakfast items. Hermione sat a couple of spaces down from them and didn't seem to want to be spoken to. She had a book open in front of her which she was rapidly reading while she absentmindedly stirred fruit into her porridge, she was clearly trying to soak up some final flying theory before their first lesson.

The owls swooped into the Great Hall and did their usual round of delivering post.

Hilda landed in front of Isabelle's plate and playfully nipped at Isabelle hand as she untied the letter from her leg. "Oi, cheeky!" Isabelle exclaimed smilingly, "here, have some toast."

She past some of the leftovers on her plate and Hilda didn't seem to hold back, she took some bites before hooting songfully and then ascended back to the ceiling to play with the other owls. Isabelle shook her head and giggled as she turned over the note, realising it was from Daniel and opened it quickly.

_Dear Isabelle, _

_I'm glad you're having such a good time at Hogwarts. It seems we will have a Gryffindor and Slytherin rivalry when you come home, they always say that about those two houses. _

_I'm just writing to wish you luck in your flying lesson you were telling me about. I know you worry about heights, but there's no need to - you're perfectly safe. Trust your instincts. _

_Love Always, _

_Daniel_

She smiled at the letter, then put it in her bag for safe keeping. It wasn't now that her attention was back on the table that she realised everyone was very interested in a shining sphere that Neville was holding in his hand.

Hermione sensed the interest and looked up to nosy, she gasped when she saw what Neville was holding. "That's a rememberable," she explained, "I've read about those, when the smoke turns red, it means that you've forgotten something."

The smoke turned red.

"That's great and all," Neville said sheepishly, "but I can't remember what I have forgotten."

Isabelle was just finishing her final sip of pumpkin juice when Harry asked, "should we head to the Quidditch pitch?"

Isabelle and Ron agreed, and the three Gryffindors made their way out of the Great Hall and straight for class.

The sun was still bright from the sky and bore down across the castle, it was a warm breeze and Isabelle found herself smiling against it while Harry and Ron discussed the lesson that day.

"It's with the slytherins?" Harry asked, "that's the last thing I need."

"What do you mean?" asked Ron

"It'll be just my luck that I'll mess up and make a fool of myself on a broom in front of Malfoy."

Isabelle sighed, "you need to stop caring about what he thinks, Harry. He's just trying to get to you, and you shouldn't let him."

"I know, but didn't you hear him the other day? He was talking about all his near misses with muggle helicopters and-"

"Sounds like you're in love Harry," Isabelle teased,

His cheeks turned ferociously red, "I am not!"

"Pack it in, both of you, you sounds like me and my brothers," Ron scolded them, though Isabelle could see the grin on his face.

The pitch wasn't very full when the three of them got there, but it wasn't long until it was. The first years all chattered excitedly amongst themselves until a sharp voice interrupted them.

"Well what are you waiting for? Find yourselves a broomstick and stand on the left side of it!"

Isabelle did as she was told immediately, only looking at the teacher when she had found a broom between Hermione and Ron. the teacher was stern looking, she had yellow eyes and short gray hair. She wore long dark robes and carried her wand at her side. Isabelle knew this teacher to be named Madam Hooch.

"Place your right hand over your broom and say 'up' with feeling, go on then, don't be shy."

"Up!" Harry's broom shot straight into his hand, but he was one of the only ones that managed it.

Isabelle's came up on her third try, this caused Hermione to look at her in disbelief.

It seemed Hermione's broom did not want to obey her orders, and what just rolling around on the floor beside her.

Ron wasn't having much better luck. "Up!" he demanded, but the broom defied and threw its front end up, hitting him square on the nose. Ron wined "shut up!" when the Potter's starting laughing at him,

Once all the students managed to get their broomsticks, they moved onto sitting positions. It seemed that Harry had no greater joy than when Madam Hooch told Malfoy that his position was entirely wrong.

It seemed to be the icing on the cake when she then turned to Harry to compliment him on his position. "Very well done, Potter. It seems you have a natural talent."

Isabelle and Harry high-fived when Madam Hooch turned to answer some of Hermione's questions.

"Dear girl, you cannot learn about flying from a book. It's all practice, keep trying, it'll come."

Once everyone had mastered the position, they then moved on to some hovering exercise. The task was to kick off from the ground, hover for a few seconds, then touch back down. Isabelle was nervously getting ready as Madam Hooch started counting down from three when Neville cried out.

"Down, down!"

Isabelle gasped when she saw Neville zooming high into the air. His broom was out of control, it seemed to be bucking like a very angry horse. Neville was shouting for help all the while.

Madam Hooch was not impressed, "Longbottom, get down this instant!"

Neville, however, did not know how to come back down. He tried to instruct his broom but it did no good. He whizzed around the pitch before crashing against the castle wall. He fell of his broom and hit the hard floor with a great crunch. Isabelle winced as Madam Hooch raced over to him.

"Oh dear, that's a broken wrist." Madam Hooch said as she helped Neville to his feet.

Isabelle looked at Harry with worried eyes, what if that was going to happen to her as well?

"I want all of you to stay with your feet firmly on the ground while I take Longbottom to the hospital wing. If I catch any of you riding brooms while I'm away you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can stay Quidditch."

She turned into the castle and the remaining first years were left to themselves.

Isabelle watched as Malfoy scooped something of the ground with great interest. It didn't take her long to realise that it was Neville's remembrall.

"If the fat lump had given this a squeeze, perhaps he would have remembered to fall on his fat arse," Malfoy sniggered, and the Slytherins laughed.

Isabelle couldn't help herself, she stepped up to him, "give that back, Malfoy."

Pansy shoved Isabelle back, "I didn't strike you as the kind to be into cry babies, Potter. I wonder what that says about you."

Isabelle glared at her, but didn't have time for a response as Harry was now getting in on the argument.

"You heard her, give it back." Harry demanded Malfoy.

"No," Malfoy smirked, "I'm going to leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find."

He swung his leg over the broom and flew into the air.

"What's the matter, Potters? Bit beyond your reach?"

Isabelle and Harry exchanged glances, Isabelle's look was hesitant, while Harry's was determined. He swung his leg over the broom, but before he could fly, Hermione grabbed him by the jumper.

"Harry, no way! You heard what Madam Hooch said, and- and- you don't even know how to fly yet!"

Harry didn't listen, he shot into the air like a bullet. This surprised Isabelle, but not as much as it surprised Malfoy, who for a moment seemed a little taken aback by Harry's confidence.

"What an idiot," Hermione muttered. Isabelle went to shoot her a look but decided better of it, after all, Hermione was right - not that she was going to tell her that.

Isabelle diverted her attention back to the air and watch the events unfold from the ground where there was nothing she could do. It tempted her to fly up there and help her brother, but with a fear of heights, she wasn't quite sure what help she would be.

The two boys seemed to argue in the air for a short while until Malfoy lunged the ball off into the distance. Harry, almost as though it was second nature, leaned into the broomstick and raced after it. He looked flawless, there was no denying it. He stretched out his arm and caught the ball just before it hit a small window on the castle wall, then he returned to the ground.

The Gryffindors cheered as his feet touched the ground again, but it seemed not everybody was quite so impressed.

"Harry Potter!" Professor McGonagall, almost running, approached them. "Never in all my time at Hogwarts- that was just- just- just follow me, Potter."

Harry's head lowered and he followed Professor McGonagall back towards the castle.

Isabelle glared at Malfoy while he grinned at her in triumph. This grin however, did not last for very long. Not moments after McGonagall had come, Snape angrily rushed onto the field, looking rather menacing with his cloak swaying behind him. He grabbed Malfoy by the ear and lectured him the entire way to the castle.

Isabelle wanted to smile in triumph, but her worry for Harry overrode it.

It wasn't until lunch that Isabelle was able to see Harry. He was already sitting at the Gryffindor table eating some sandwiches and looking oddly smug with himself.

Isabelle gave him a hug, then sat beside him.

"Harry, I was so worried… what happened?"

"McGonagall was impressed with my flying skills. So much, in fact, that's she's make me the new Gryffindor seeker."

Ron's eyes widened, "seeker? But first years never make the house teams, you must be the first in over a century."

"That's what McGonagall said," Harry grinned.

Isabelle laughed, not from humour, but from relief. She embraced him once more before helping herself to some lunch, "that's incredible Harry, I'm so-"

"Having your last meal here Potter? I suppose you'll be heading back to the muggles later on" Malfoy was smirking, though it seemed to falter when the three Gryffindors turned to look at him with smiling faces.

"Not today. Malfoy. I'm actually eating my first meal as the Gryffindor's new Quidditch team seeker."

"Seeker?" Malfoy spluttered, "I get a months worth of detention with Snape and McGonagall makes _you _the team seeker?"

"I suppose he owes it all to you really, Malfoy, so thank you." Isabelle intercepted, rubbing salt into the wound. Malfoy looked distraught.

"I'll show you who is really worth being at Hogwarts, Potter. How about a duel tonight? Supposing you know what one of those are."

"Of course he does!" Ron said sharply, even though Harry looked a little lost. "I'm his second, whos yours?"

Malfoy turned to size up Crabbe and Goyle, Isabelle looked too, but averted her gaze when Goyle looked right back at her. There was nothing small about his two friends.

"Crabbe." Malfoy decided. "Trophy room, tonight. Witching hour."

Then, he left, his two cronies trailing behind him.

Harry and Isabelle turned back to the table to look at Ron, who was now tucking into a chicken pie.

"What's a duel?" Harry asked,

"What's a second?" Isabelle asked quickly after.

"A duel is where a witch and wizard use spells against each other, like a muggle duel with swords, but obviously with magic instead. A second is there to take over in case you die."

"Die?!" Isabelle exclaimed as Ron tried to put a piece of pie in his mouth, he chuckled sheepishly.

"Well, yeah. Though no one will die tonight, you don't know harmful enough spells."

Harry and Isabelle exchanged looks as Hermione joined them, "I couldn't help but overhear what you were just saying with Malfoy and-"

"Bet you could," Ron said snidely.

Hermione ignored him, "and you simply can't do it. Think about all of the points you'd lose Gryffindor if you got caught!"

"It hasn't really got anything to do with you," Harry said quietly.

"It does when I earn a lot of points for Gryffindor! All those points I got in charms yesterday would be wasted on you."

"You've got some nerve" Ron snapped,

Hermione glared at him, "remember what I said."

She left.

Ron turned to look at Harry and Isabelle in dismay, "I pity the man that marries her."


	8. Hermione Was Right

Sidenote: I just want to add a quick authors note to apologise for not updating very regularly. I'm taking exams at the moment and so I've been very busy. Hopefully once summer has started I will be able to upload as much more. Thank you for all those that are sticking with this. Don't forget to favorite or review if you're enjoying!

Anticipation had seemed to make twelve o'clock come around quickly. The afternoon had been spent practicing spells they'd learnt in classes and trying to remember how to block unfriendly spells.

"What if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" Harry had asked worriedly,

"Throw your wand away and punch him on the nose." Isabelle had suggested.

Perhaps Harry might have laughed if he was feeling any lighter about the situation.

Isabelle had made sure to go down to the common room in plenty of time that evening, mostly to ensure that she wouldn't stir Hermione by her tossing and turning. The fire was still warm, and tiny golden embers still shone by the time Harry and Ron finally made their way down from the boy's dormitories with pitter-pattered steps.

"This is crazy," Ron said once they reached the bottom, "I can't believe we're actually going to go through with this."

"I know," Harry agreed, "but someone needs to stand up to Malfoy."

The three of them agreed, then started to make their way towards the portrait hole when a shrill voice stopped them in their tracks.

"Not so fast."

The three turned around to see Hermione. Her face was glowing in the light of the candles and the fire, which exemplified her pouting face. Her arms were crossed across her chest like a stern teacher, and her foot tapped against the scarlet rug.

"_You!" _Ron agitatedly exclaimed, "go back to bed, this has nothing to do with you!"

"I almost told your brother, Percy!" Hermione burst, "I didn't though, because I didn't think you were actually stupid enough to go through with this. Do you really think that Malfoy means what he says? He's just trying to get you all in trouble."

Harry looked at Isabelle with an unsure glisten in his eye - perhaps Hermione was right. The two of them exchanged glances, but silently seemed to agree that it was worth the risk. As Harry had said earlier, someone needs to stand up to Malfoy.

They began walking towards the portrait door, and Ron followed suit.

Hermione was not going to give up on the situation without a fight. She started following them, hissing like an angry goose. "Don't you want to beat Slytherin this year and get the house cup? After all that work I have put into classes! I got lots of points today alone, especially for knowing about switching spells. You know what, fine. Get Gryffindor into trouble, but just remember everything that I've said tomorrow when you're on the train home back to London and-"

_Slam._

The four looked back to see the portrait had closed, and the fat lady was gone. Hermione gasped, "oh gosh - what am I going to do?"

"That's your problem," Ron snapped, and started leading the way towards the common room.

He didn't get very far though, because Hermione said something that made him stop in his tracks.

"I'm coming with you. I'm not going to wait around for Filch to catch me here alone. At least if I come, I can explain to Filch that I had tried to stop you all along-"

"You've got some nerve!"

"Shut up!" Isabelle intercepted the argument, "carry on shouting like that and you're asking Filch to come and find us! Hermione, come with us or stay - it's your choice, but if we don't hurry, Malfoy is going to think we're not turning up."

Harry nodded in agreement, and the four of them proceeded down the staircase. Isabelle was surprised that Hermione didn't argue again, because she looked as though she still had a million things that she wanted to say.

Light shone in the hallways from glistening embers of candle lights. It was eerie in a way, and Isabelle was feeling a little jumpy - mostly because she knew Filch or Mrs Norris could be waiting for them around any corner. They were not safe anywhere.

Once the trophy room was in sight, the four first years picked up the pace. Harry had already reached for his wand, not wanting to be caught off guard by Malfoy, who would more than likely jump into any loophole he could to gain the upper hand.

Inside, it was suddenly very apparent that Malfoy and Crabbe were not there yet. The four of them stood silently, listening to the quietness of the castle and all feeling a little tense. Suddenly, there was a noise, however it was definitely not Malfoy or Crabbe…

"Sniff around my sweet, that Malfoy boy said he overheard they'd be here at twelve. They could be hiding anywhere."

Isabelle and Harry exchanged grim glances. Hermione had been right - Malfoy had no intention of turning up tonight.

Harry quickly adjusted to the new circumstances, and started waving his arms to indicate the others to follow him. Silently, Isabelle followed his lead, but in the confusion of it all, Hermione and Ron clashed and-

CRASH

A suit of armour collapsed to the floor and let out a great clank that could have woken up the entire school.

"Run!" Harry shouted, and the other three didn't need instructing twice.

The Gryffindors sprinted as fast as they could out of the trophy room. It wasn't graceful in any sense of the word, particularly as they scrambled around corners in fear of Mrs Norris catching up to them.

Isabelle was thankful for the running she did at home, because this was no walk in the park. They ran for what seemed like a long while, before they deemed themselves far enough away from Filch to finally stop for breath.

Hermione stormed to the nearest door, muttered _"Alohomora" _and the four of them clambered in.

It seemed that this had been done just in time, because while the first years panted behind the locked door, they could hear the vague sound of Filch's voice, "come on, my sweet, let's go elsewhere. The first years won't be down here if they know what's good for them."

"Oh no," Hermione paled,

"What now?" Ron snapped, still trying to put his breathing pattern right.

"This is the third floor, isn't it? This is the one that's forbidden"

"And for good reason" Harry told them.

Isabelle turned to the direction the others were looking to see six pairs of eyes on her like she was a meal.

The creature looked like a very large three headed dog. Its eyes were large, yellow and menacing, and its teeth were bigger than swords. It began to drool through its growls.

Frozen in place, Isabelle couldn't do anything but stare in fright. Her only movement was courtesy of Harry, who had grabbed her by the hand and yanked her out before helping Ron shut the door behind them.

"Let's get out of here," Ron said shakily.

Harry grabbed Isabelle's hand once more, and the four first years sprinted back to the Gryffindor common room.

"Where have you been?" The fat lady asked crossly, her eyes narrowing at the sight of their red faces.

"Pig snout!" Harry responded, offering no information.

The four of them scouted into the common room and collapsed onto the plush sofas without saying another word.

They were quiet for a long while, all of them trying to take in all of what had just happened. Isabelle was still trembling when Ron was finally the first one to offer conversation.

"What do they think their doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?"

Hermione's eyes flared with sudden pits of anger and fire. "You're an idiot, didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"I wasn't looking at its feet!" Ron exclaimed, "I was a bit preoccupied with its heads. Or maybe you didn't notice, there were three!"

Hermione seemed to ignore this, "it was standing on a trap door which means it wasn't there by accident. It's obviously guarding something."

Harry looked up with interest, "guarding something?"

"Obviously," Hermione said snobbishly, "I'm going to bed now, before the three of you come up with another clever idea to get us killed, or worse, _expelled." _

She then stood up, and stomped off towards the stairs.

Isabelle decided to follow suit, "I should probably go too. Though make sure you pray for me, I'm never going to live this down, am I? This is going to be it for the next seven years."

"Rather you than me," Ron responded unhelpfully,

Isabelle smiled, "goodnight."

Harry didn't say anything, he was miles away in thought. Isabelle smiled again, then turned on her heel and went up to bed.

What a night.


	9. A Run-in with Quirrell

Isabelle paid special attention to Malfoy the following morning at breakfast time. His face was a picture. His eyes almost falling out of his sockets when he saw the three tired, but cheerful Gryffindors entering the great hall that morning before mounding much needed energy onto their plates.

It also became apparent to Isabelle that Harry and Ron had stayed up a little longer after she and Hermione had headed up to bed as they excitedly talked about the adventure the night before after mulling over the consequences. It seemed the probability of death didn't scare them from further investigations into what the three-headed dog was guarding. Isabelle, admittedly, was just as thrilled to have been a part of it.

They discussed what they thought the object would be, and Harry reminded them of his trip to Diagon Alley with Hagrid where they went to fetch that package for Professor Dumbledore. From Harry's description, it was a small packaged item, no bigger than a common rock. It didn't give them many clues.

It occured to Isabelle that if anyone was going to be clever enough to decode the object, it would probably be Hermione. However she had thrown herself into bed the previous night and was most likely pretending to be asleep by the time Isabelle got there considering she was a mere few seconds behind. Hermione was less than impressed about their little adventure and had resulted in the silent treatment.

Ron was happy by this development, describing her as a "bossy know-it-all."

"In her defence, she was trying to do the right thing." Isabelle said slowly, clearly in the minority of opinion as both Harry and Ron bore judgemental looks on her.

"All I'm saying is, a silent Hermione makes for a happy Ron." Ron said, shoving some bacon in his mouth. Isabelle looked across the table, Hermione was sat alone with a book at the end. She couldn't help but feel pitiful for Hermione somehow, however irritating she may be.

The silent treatment didn't just last the following day, it continued throughout the week. This made sharing a dorm with Hermione very difficult. By the time Monday rolled around, Hermione was starting to break, and was now talking to Isabelle if it was about school work, however she was still entirely ignoring Harry and Ron - not that this bothered them all too much.

One morning, the owls made their usual rounds at the breakfast table. Isabelle received a letter from Daniel, but before she could open the letter, another item dropped with a card. This one was for Harry.

Harry looked shocked as he opened the note.

**DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE. **

_It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session._

_Professor McGonagall_

Harry gleefully pushed the note to Isabelle, and Ron read it over her shoulder. "That's amazing, Harry!" Isabelle exclaimed, shuffling it back.

"I should take it to my dorm for safekeeping." He said,

Ron nodded, "definitely, the package makes it fairly obvious what you've got, and the whole Quidditch thing is supposed to be a secret."

Harry grabbed the package, and Isabelle grabbed her letter before following the boys back to the Gryffindor common room. Of course, it wasn't long until they ran into trouble.

A pair of hands reached out in the hallway and seized the package from Harry's grasp. "Hey!"

"That's a broomstick. First years aren't allowed, Potter." Malfoy spat, though Isabelle couldn't quite tell if such an emotional response was due to spite or jealousy. Perhaps both.

Ron couldn't help himself. "Not just any old broomstick, it's a Nimbus Two Thousand."

"Shut up, Weasley, you couldn't afford one of the straws from the end."

"Not fighting, I hope." I squeaky voice sounded, then, Professor Flitwick appeared by Malfoy looking at the first years pointedly.

"Potter has a broomstick, Professor." Malfoy told him quickly.

"Yes, yes, I know." Flitwick grinned, "McGonagall told me about the special circumstances Potter, what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir." Harry said, it was very clear that he, like Ron and Isabelle, were trying very hard not to laugh at the sight of horror on Malfoy's face, "Honestly sir, I owe the pleasure of owning one to Malfoy."

Flitwick, looking a little confused, nodded with a smile, while Malfoy's face smothered in rage. The three Gryffindors excused themselves, then laughed the whole way up the stairs to the common room.

Lessons that day had gone rather quickly for Isabelle, she found herself taking each period in a stride, learning new things by the hour. However, it seemed the day couldn't drag any slower for Harry, who was relentlessly talking about his broom and how excited he was to get started later on that day.

When seven o'clock finally cake around, Harry left for training, and Ron stayed with Dean and Seamus in the Great Hall while Isabelle went to the library. She had her previous loans in her bag that were ready for return.

In the library, she handed the books over to Madam Pince, and proceeded to find more. She found herself a table by a high window, not expecting to be disturbed when she did.

"Potions… you have a talent for it."

Isabelle looked up to see a very sheepish Hermione.

"I wouldn't say that," Isabelle responded, "not yet at least. Though it's interesting for sure."

Hermione nodded, "I would like to join you, is that okay?"

Isabelle rose an eyebrow, Hermione sighed as she took the seat opposite.

"I shouldn't have got so annoyed at you and the others… I mean, it was completely barbaric and I certainly will not be doing any rule breaking again but- well, it was fun, I suppose. I also can't blame you for it, you were just looking out for Harry, and Harry didn't even really agree to it because Ron was the one that jumped in and said he'd be a second and-"

"Hermione," Isabelle smiled, placing a hand on top of her friends. "We're okay."

Hermione smiled.

Isabelle read up on potions, making a few notes on parchment while Hermione revised charms. It seemed she had a knack for it the way Isabelle did with potions. The two studied for a while, but Isabelle was rapidly becoming tired.

"I'm going to head back to the common room," Isabelle announced, "are you coming?"

"I'll stay here a little longer, I've almost finished this book." Hermione said.

Isabelle nodded, "alright, I'll see you later then."

The hallway was dark and gloomy now Isabelle was returning to the common room. The portraits had settled down, some reading and other snoozing. Isabelle proceeded with a light foot to avoid annoying the portraits.

As she turned around a sharp corner, she almost jumped out of her skin in fright.

"Oh, Professor Quirrell. You scared me!" Isabelle breathed out, laughing lightly. He, however, did not seem too amused. He looked as though he was in deep pain - his lip was twitching.

"G-good evening, m-miss P-Potter." He stammered, "S-shouldn't you b-be in your c-common r-romm?"

Isabelle nodded, "yes sir, I'm just headed there now. I'll see you in class-"

"N-not so fast."

Isabelle's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as Quirrell approached her, he scanned over her face and her body, it made her deeply uncomfortable and found herself backing up, however, he didn't stop.

His eyes were dark, and piercing, something about it wasn't right and Isabelle wasn't sure what to do. Her back became cold very suddenly as it hit the brick wall, she trembled. "I really should be going back sir."

"Do the deed," a voice instructed, but it wasn't Quirrell. Isabelle looked around, but it seemed no one else was around. She gulped as Quirrell outstretched his hand, his finger edging towards her scar when a voice interrupted.

"Quirrell, what are you…" the voice trailed off when Isabelle's eyes met with Professor Snape's.

Snape's face hardened. "Miss Potter, it seems you're out of your dorm rather late this evening."

Isabelle had been so distracted by the Potion Master's appearance that she didn't notice Quirrell had suddenly scurried backwards, creating a more comfortable distance.

"Sorry sir, I was just in the library. I was reading about potions, believe it or not."

Snape nodded, "I see. I think you should be more time aware though, Miss Potter. You know that curfew is after dark."

She nodded.

"I'm sure Professor Quirrell was just telling you that before I arrived." His eyes bore on Professor Quirrell in a very threatening way.

Quirrell nodded pathetically.

"Good. Well then, Miss Potter, I ought to escort you back to your common room. If I don't you'll only be brought back to me by Filch."

She nodded again, then took after him as he strode in the direction she had been heading before her run-in with Professor Quirrell. She was still shaking.

Once they were a few corridors away, Snape slowed his step and Isabelle walked alongside him.

"You look pale Potter, what's wrong? I know _I _don't scare you so don't play that card."

Isabelle found herself faced with a dilemma, should she tell Snape what had happened with Quirrell? Of course _nothing did happen_ but that voice… and the way he had cornered her in such a way, it was frightening.

"I think I'm coming down with something sir,"

"Yes," Snape snarled, "I could hear you coughing all the way from the dungeons," sarcasm laced in his tone.

Isabelle wasn't sure what to say.

"I know you're not my biggest fan Potter, but you can tell me the truth. I am a teacher, I'm here to help you learn and look after your wellbeing. I have a duty of care, you can tell me when you have any issues, understand?"

She looked at him, he didn't look back.

"Thank you, Professor Snape."

They finally found themselves at the fat lady.

"This is where I leave you now Potter, I don't want to hear you've been out of your common room out of hours again, understand?"

Isabelle nodded, then smiled. "Thank you, sir."

Snape finally looked at her, though something about her made his eye twitch. His expression was unreadable; sadness, guilt, regret, anger and loss swirled in the black void of his eyes. This expression, however, left his face as quickly as it had come, and Isabelle barely wasted a second to think on it.

She whispered the password to the portrait then went inside, waving at her Professor before the door clicked to a close.

Ron was sat with Harry before the fire playing chess.

"Isabelle!" Harry grinned, though it faltered when he saw her troubled look.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded, "a minor run in with Snape and Quirrell. I'm alright. What are you two doing?"

Harry looked like he wanted to push further questions as she sat with them, but Ron was quick to answer her. It was a relief to her that her shaking had finally stopped otherwise Harry may have _actually_ pushed for further information out of worry.

"We're playing wizard chess. I'm winning."

Isabelle shifted her head to one side, "wizard chess?"

Harry made a noise as one of his pieces was shattered into bits by one of Ron's pieces.

"Woah," Isabelle breathed.

Even though Isabelle had been at Hogwarts for almost two months now, the magic still never ceased to amaze her.

"I'm going to lose again," Harry said grumpily before making his move.

"How was Quidditch practice?" She asked, lightening his mood significantly.

"Amazing!" He said, "Wood charmed some golf balls to act as snitches and I caught every one. He was so impressed I swear he wanted to hug me by the time we finished."

Isabelle laughed, it seemed Wood was eccentric for Quidditch.

The three stayed up for a while longer before heading to bed.

Isabelle didn't sleep so easy.


	10. What's Ron With You!

Isabelle was exhausted by the time she woke up the next morning, she had barely slept at all. Rubbing her head, she looked around the common room. Lavender and Parvati had already left that morning, but Hermione sat up in bed, scribing against a roll of parchment.

"Morning," Isabelle said tiresomely as she whipped her legs over the side of the bed.

"Morning," Hermione responded, looking up. "I was going to wake you in five minutes, I didn't want you to miss breakfast, or classes of course."

Isabelle smiled, "thank you, Hermione."

Isabelle's senses began to come back to her. Her eyes were sharpening up, her limbs waking, and her mind began running. She cringed as the events of the night prior came back to her. The thought of Quirrell and that voice ran shivers down her spine.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, sensing discomfort.

"Nothing," Isabelle said almost too quickly.

Hermione tilted her head to one side, "you and I both know that I am smart enough to know better."

Isabelle hesitated, "if I tell you, you won't tell anyone, will you?"

Hermione put her parchment down and edged forward, "of course I won't"

"Last night when I came back from the library, I ran into Quirrell. He looked scared – not that he doesn't always but, well… there was this voice asking him to do something and he tried to touch my scar."

Isabelle winced at the way Hermione seemed so worried but carried on. "I don't know what I would have done if Snape didn't turn up. He told me off for walking about the castle our of hours and then brought me to the common room…"

Hermione mulled it over, "that is strange"

"Quirrell seemed to be in some kind of trance, I can't really explain it."

"That voice you mentioned, it wasn't Snape, was it?" Hermione asked

Isabelle thought about it, but the trauma had seemed to have taken over the memory, "I can't remember what the voice sounded like. Just that there was one and… Am I going mad?" she was beginning to shake now, her eyes swelling with rare tears.

Hermione leapt to her feet and pulled Isabelle into a hug. It wasn't a requested hug, but it was one that she needed. The two didn't stay in the embrace for long, but Isabelle was already feeling herself calming under the reassurance Hermione provided her with.

"listen Isabelle, I can't explain what happened last night, but don't worry. Perhaps it was our fault for being out of bed past curfew, but during the day we're safe. Remember that Dumbledore is here, nothing bad will happen to you if he is around. Plus, anyone that wants to get to you will have to get through me first."

Hermione had a glint in her eye, and Isabelle laughed at the courage and bravery she wished she could also adopt. "Thank you, Hermione, I feel better already."

Hermione smiled, "good, now get dressed, I don't want to miss charms. I am so ready to make things fly today."

It didn't take Isabelle much longer than twenty minutes before her hair was braided, her tie was tied, and her books were packed into her bag. The made their way out into the castle hallways that smelt of freshly baking pumpkin. Outside the windows, Isabelle smiled at the sight of the trees turning all shades of orange, red and golden.

The charms classroom was filling by the time they got there by Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. Hermione took the empty seat beside Ron as Isabelle went for the row behind them.

"Isabelle, come sit here!" Seamus called and made room for her between himself and Dean.

She thanked them and bid them a good morning. Harry poked around from the other side of Seamus to greet her too. The first years, however, did not have much time to talk. Flitwick was stood up on his stool and got them working right away.

"well, what are you waiting for? Why don't you get started? Find yourself a partner and don't forget that wrist movement we've been practicing!"

Dean elbowed Isabelle lightly and smiled at her, "ready?"

Isabelle's cheeks tinged slightly. She hadn't spoken much to Dean upon meeting him for the first time a few months ago and felt uncharacteristically shy. Swallowing her insecurities, she smiled back and nodded.

"Be warned, I'm not very good at charms"

"Neither am I," he admitted, winked, then took out his wand.

Dean was wrong, _his charms were particularly on point_, Isabelle thought as she reached for her own wand.

The two of them tried but had little luck. They proceeded to take turns, but the closest they got to actual levitation was when Dean caused the feather to jump. Somehow, though, their efforts were not as bad as Harry and Seamus'. The pair had somehow managed to set their feather on fire and had to get a new one after Harry had frantically whacked it with his sleeve to get the flames out. Isabelle and Dean found great pleasure in laughing at the boy's ashen faces.

A few more minutes passed, when Isabelle's attention was taken again, this time by Hermione and Ron.

"Stop, Ronald! You're going to take someone's eye out, and besides, you're saying it wrong. It's levi-osa, not levio-sa"

Ron looked at her with a fiery expression, "why don't you do it then if you're so clever, go on!"

Hermione gave him a look. _Challenge accepted. _She rolled up her sleeves, cleared her throat, and then with a bout of confidence said "_Wengardium Leviosa!"_

Unsurprisingly, the feather rose off the desk and up into the ceiling. Ron had gone red in the face with what looked like either anger or embarrassment.

Flitwick squeaked when he noticed and awarded Hermione with a generous fifteen points for Gryffindor.

Isabelle couldn't help but notice how smug Hermione looked.

When the session ended, Harry, Seamus and Ron exited first, and Isabelle followed a few paces behind with Dean.

"I can't believe Hermione managed it; all we did was make it jump." Dean said,

Isabelle chuckled, "no, _you _made it jump. I didn't do anything. I really can't get to grips with it at all."

"You will." Dean said, "I've seen you in classes, you're a fast learner."

Isabelle shook her head, and in the silence, heard Ron ranting ahead.

"It's levi-osa, not levio-sa. She's a know-it-all, honestly. It's a nightmare. No wonder she hasn't got any friends."

Isabelle's eyes widened as Hermione suddenly came into view, gave Ron a good shove by the cold shoulder, then sped into the distance. Isabelle picked up the pace.

"Hermione!" she called, but Hermione was already too far into the distance to hear her.

Isabelle smacked Ron upside the head, "ow! What was that for?"

"Being an absolute ass! She was only trying to help you, Ron. The least you can do is show a little respect."

Isabelle went to walk away, then turned back, "you're wrong about her having no friends too. She does have friends, and I am one of them."

Isabelle then turned on her heel and broke into a light jog down the courtyard.

She searched for a full hour before finally giving up. Hermione had not been in the common room, the dormitory, or the library – which seemed to be the three likely places. Isabelle gave up, hoping that she would see her in classes.

She was wrong.

Hermione didn't show up for classes for the rest of the day, and by dinnertime, Isabelle was beginning to worry.

"Has anyone seen Hermione?" Isabelle wasn't asking anyone in particular but hoped at least her message would reach someone with an answer.

Neville turned, "I haven't seen her. Although Parvati and Lavender said they saw her running towards the girl's bathroom in tears."

Isabelle nodded, then gave Ron a pointed look. He sheepishly nibbled his ice cream when a large sound interrupted the calm flow of dinner.

Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the great hall, panting. He looked exasperated, pale and terrified. "Troll in the dungeon!" he cried.

Dumbledore rose to his feet as Quirrell muttered something, then collapsed in a heap on the floor.

The hall exploded into commotion, but Dumbledore quickly pulled back control.

"SILENCE!" He yelled above the noise. "Everyone will please, not panic. I would ask that house prefects will lead their houses to their dormitories, while teachers follow me to the dungeons."

The commotion started again, but this time it was a little more organised. Percy was in his element and started calling for all Gryffindors to follow him.

Isabelle grabbed Harry's hand so she wouldn't lose him in the masses, and they followed the red tied students out of the great hall.

"How did a troll get in?" Harry asked.

"Not by itself, trolls are really stupid. It was probably someone making a joke on Halloween."

Isabelle's stomach suddenly dropped. "Hermione, she doesn't know!"

"I'm sure she'll be alright," Harry stated.

"No," Isabelle interjected, stopping them instantly. "The girls bathroom is next to the dungeon, what if she runs into it?"

"Trolls are stupid, but they are dangerous…" Ron seemed to be mulling it over. Finally, he sighed, "let's go, but don't let Percy notice."

The three waded their way through the students, then made a break for it in the direction of girls bathroom. Isabelle sprinted the fastest, Harry hot on her heels and Ron a few paces back. Suddenly, Isabelle slammed to a holt, then stuck her arm out to stop Harry.

"There's the troll." She said, hiding behind a large pillar.

"It's escaped the dungeon." Harry observed

"No, really?" Isabelle sarcastically interjected.

"And I'm guessing that's the girls toilets?" Ron gulped as the troll threw the door off its hinges.

"Yep." Isabelle affirmed, then made her way forwards.

The three entered the bathroom to see Hermione staring and the troll. She was frozen in fright.

"Hey, pea brain!" Ron cried, then threw a piece of loose wood from the door straight into the troll's head. It turned and roared, then started swinging his club about.

"Hermione, move!" Harry shouted, but Hermione was still frozen in place, mouth gaping open in sheer shock.

Isabelle lurched over to Hermione, near missing a fatal whack of the club. She turned to guard Hermione, but another hit never came. Instead, she heard a sequence of confused sounds and looked back.

Harry was sat on the trolls shoulders, clinging for dear life as it flailed and roared. Isabelle's heart raced as Harry leaned around the troll's neck and shoved his wand up the troll's nose.

"Ew," said Ron, pulling a face of disgust. Then, his face hardened in concentration. He pulled out his wand and cried, _"Wengardium Leviosa!"_

The troll's club floated into the air, then dropped.

It hit the troll square on the head which caused it to start swaying.

"Harry, be careful!" Isabelle called as the troll fell flat on its face. The whole room trembled like a volcano beginning to erupt.

Harry shakily came off the troll, and took his wand back, then started wiping it on the trolls clothes.

Hermione seemed to have come back to her senses and said, "is it dead?"

"I think it's just knocked out," Harry told her.

Suddenly, there was a large hammering noise, and it didn't take the first years long to realise that it was the footsteps of the teachers that must have heard the racket from the Dungeons downstairs.

McGonagall gasped at the sight, a mix of amazement and anger flashing in her eyes as she laid them upon the scene. "Explain yourselves!"

Isabelle looked at Harry and Ron, who were exchanging desperate glances when Hermione piped up.

"It's my fault Professor. I've read all about trolls and thought that I could handle one by myself. I was wrong, if Isabelle, Harry and Ron didn't come and find me, I'd probably be… well, dead."

McGonagall seemed dumbfounded for a moment, but was quick to respond, "how very foolish of you, Miss Granger. Not many first-year students can take on a fully grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale!"

She casted sideways glances at Isabelle, Harry and Ron.

"Five points will be taken from Gryffindor, for your serious lack of judgement. Now, if you have no injuries you should head up to the common room, the students are all finishing dinner in there."

Hermione, head hung low, exited the bathroom under all the teacher's piercing stares.

"As for you three, I hope you know how lucky you are." McGonagall sighed. "Five points will be awarded each of you, for your bravery. Now, off to the common room. We'll take it from here."

Isabelle, shocked, didn't need telling twice. Disbelief washed over her, as she left the bathroom before McGonagall could change her mind.

They walked in silence for a while, before Ron started talking.

"I can't believe she only gave us fifteen points for beating that troll."

"Ten, actually." Interjected Harry, "If you count the points Hermione lost."

"Better than losing more points," Isabelle commented as they neared the portrait.

Inside, Hermione was waiting for them. She didn't say anything, only smiled shyly, then passed them all plates.

From that moment on, all four of them became a tight group of unbreakable friendship. It's circumstances like beating a twelve foot mountain troll that make you form a bond for life.


	11. An Adventure with Fred and George

News about the troll travelled around the school very fast. So fast, in fact, that she could hear Parvati and Lavender talking about it while her eyes were barely open the next morning. The two girls were astounded and impressed by the handiwork of the Potters and Ron and left not long after getting dressed to get breakfast. This was when Isabelle finally sighed against the rising of the sun and decided to get out of bed. Today was Saturday, and she decided she shouldn't spend it lay in bed, however tempting.

She swung her legs over the beg and lightly placed them on the scarlet carpet, trying not to wake Hermione, who was still breathing softly in her four-poster bed. Isabelle tiptoed silently to the bathroom and started putting her hair into a very short French braid. As she twisted the strands and interwove them into its plait, she caught sight of her eyes in the reflection. She looked more tired today than she had done in a while, this was possibly owed to the troll she encountered last night, or Quirrell before that, or the three headed dog before that…

In reality, Isabelle was struggling somewhat with all of the adventures. Perhaps she wouldn't feel so bad if she hadn't of had that run-in with Quirrell. It dawned on her that something wasn't right at Hogwarts but couldn't quite place it. Snape was suspicious too, the more she thought about that voice, the more she pinned it on him. How often did voices come out of nowhere? Not to mention his sudden concern for her when he was leading her away from Quirrell and back to the common room – it was no secret that Snape despised both her and her brother, Harry, after their very first potions lesson of the year.

In spite of all of this though, she had nothing against Harry. In fact, Harry was more wonderful than she could have ever anticipated. He was strong willed, determined and kind. His kindness shining through like his knight in shining armour. He was a little reckless, but even that stemmed by act of good-will, like deciding to stand up to Malfoy when no one else would.

In that moment, she silently vowed to herself that she would do absolutely everything in her power to protect her brother at all costs. She had only met him two months prior, and the thought of losing him made her feel colder than any physical thing could. She loved their late-night chats in front of the fire, and going on stupid adventures with Ron at their side.

When Isabelle had finally giving up trying to force her baby hairs into the braid, she decided that she was deemed presentable enough for the day. She exited the bathroom, silently pulled on her everyday wear, then exited the dorm. With a light step, she checked back to make sure that Hermione didn't stir. It was the weekend after all, and if there was anything Hermione deserved more than good grades, it was a solid bit of rest.

Once in the common room, Isabelle finally relaxed. She started heading for the portrait hole when she was abruptly stopped by a voice from one of the scarlet armchairs.

"Izzy, I've been waiting for you."

Isabelle turned on the spot to see red hair, a large grin and electric blue eyes staring at her. She paused for a moment as she tried to extract the name of the boy that was sat before her. It was one of Ron's twin's brothers – but the question was, was its Fred, or George? On the night of the sorting ceremony, she had promised Fred that she would not mix them up, but now, she was having a crisis. The only reason she finally spoke was because the twin started to frown and looked confused by her silent staring.

"Why have you been waiting for me?"

"Because Izzy, darling, you are vital to this prank we are about to pull."

Isabelle wined, "I'm not helping you with your prank, I've already got into enough trouble with the teachers without your influence as well."

"Lighten up, what's fun without a little mischief?" The twin winked.

Isabelle bit her lip. It was tempting. Since being at Hogwarts se had heard of all the pranks the twins had been pulling in passing whispers, the two of them were notorious. Many people in their year feared of being the next targets of their fun. She shook her head and cracked, "alright, what can I do to help?"

"You're the best! So, George and I heard that Malfoy was giving you, and our little brother a hard time the other day, so we've decided that its time he becomes our next target."

_Ah, so this one is Fred, _she thought as she took the seat next to him on the couch and tried to pretend that this wasn't more exciting to her than she was letting on. "Alright, so what are you thinking."

Fred cleared his throat dramatically before telling her, "I have absolutely no idea, that is where you come in."

Isabelle laughed as another voice sounded from behind her, descending from the stairs.

"Potter acquired," George grinned, "good one, Fred."

"She didn't need much persuading, trust me." Fred had told his brother, and the two of them had smirked at one another.

"Told you she wouldn't. I've seen the way she looks at him." George pretended to flinch, "if _looks _could _kill."_

Isabelle whacked him on the arm, trying her hardest not to smile before taking the conversation back on track. "So, what have you got so far?"

"We've considered charming a bucket of water to fall on him, or put dung beetles in his soup, that sort of thing." George continued,

"But nothing seems to match his level of evilness" Fred finished.

Proceeding her earlier confusion over the twins, Isabelle was quickly prevailing this issue. It occurred to her that there were very small differences in the twins, even if they were so alike that they could finish each other's sentences. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that Fred had a small, almost unnoticeable scar above his left eyebrow, and George had two small brown moles on his neck. As they spoke, Isabelle also observed the tiny curve that George's mouth took, whereas Fred's was minimally straighter. She was now observing their hair when something suddenly struck her.

"Hair!" she blurted.

She realised they'd need more information than that when they looked at her as though she was rapidly losing her mind.

"Malfoy has blonde hair, almost white. I think a few more than a couple of people would notice it if that were to change." She smirked.

The twins didn't seem to be catching on.

"Guys, we switch his shampoo for hair dye or something. We dye his hair."

Fred and George looked at each other for a long second before breaking out into large grins that took over their entire faces.

"Isabelle Potter, you evil genius. I'm so proud of you." George pretended to wipe a tear from his eye as Fred threw his arms around her and hugged her while she flailed against his embrace embarrassedly.

"Gerrof!" she protested between arms until he finally let her go.

By the time she had been let free, George had already dashed off somewhere, but it was seconds before he came bounding back over. He sat crossed legged behind the table that was pointing toward the fire. He pulled out a very old, tatty brown book from his robes and slid it across the table towards Isabelle. She went to pick it up, but before she could open it, George grabbed her wrists.

"Now, Izzy…" he started,

"This book is invaluable," Fred continued

"It's the secret to our every prank," the sentence went back to George,

Then Fred again, "your knowledge of this book does not leave the three of us, understand?"

Isabelle nodded, "sure."

She opened it up and found an array of different scrawls that she supposed were meant to be words and sentences. She squinted her eyes and decoded the letters. It described the effects of certain jinxes and what the counter curses were, certain sweets from honey dukes that could be enchanted, and of course, prank products as well that the twins had clearly invented upon their own accord. This was any prankster's heaven.

"This is brilliant!" She exclaimed, turning it to a new page. "So where do we start?"

"The library." The twins affirmed together, and then, the three of them set off on their new task.

The three of them searched in books all morning before they found all the information that they would need. It was essential that they found all the correct uses of potion items so that the potion worked, and then of course they needed an antidote.

This took a long while, but Isabelle didn't seem to mind with the twins. The three of them sat on a small table by the window, researching different potion ingredients and spells that they would need to achieve their goal. Fred and George already knew some of the products they would need before even picking up a book, which was helpful in the aspect of time. Isabelle knew that the twins were known for their sense of humour, but only appreciated it now she was immersed in the full experience. They were witty and funny, but also serious in a strange way, considering what all their seriousness was inevitably going to create.

Once they found everything they needed, they instructed Isabelle to head to the black lake and start setting everything up while they scouted their trunks for all the ingredients they would need for the task. By the time she had set up the flame and the cauldron, they were already by her side, laying out everything on the ground. The pair of them were in their element, and Isabelle was entertained enough to simply watch them.

"Now Miss Potter, if you will do us the honours?" George indicated forward, she nodded, and sat herself down cross legged in front of the cauldron and began setting herself off to work straight away.

She began by prepping the potion and then added all the ingredients, not forgetting to ensure to stir correctly. Fred was writing down everything she was doing as she did it, so that they could keep this prank for future reference if it was all to go well.

"I'm not sure if this is going to be a stupid question but, how are we going to make sure Malfoy gets the potion?" Isabelle asked, "I can't imagine he's going to drink from a curious bottle willy nilly."

"Easy," said George, "we'll send it to him by owl and claim to be a secret admirer."

She hummed, "Malfoy may be ego centrical but he's not stupid."

The three of them thought about it for a moment before Fred piped up, "we'll put it in some chocolate or something, that ought to work. In fact, I have some chocolate hearts upstairs. I got them from that Ravenclaw girl, George."

George laughed, "I'm sure she got the wrong twin. I'm obviously the more attractive one, isn't that right, Izzy?"

Isabelle blushed slightly at the wink he flew at her and shook her head in dismay. She wished they would stop laughing at her, because it was only making her blush more. This continued to amuse them for a while longer before George decided he would go and get the chocolate hearts from Fred's trunk to give him something to do now Fred was still writing down was Isabelle was doing, and she was making the potion.

"What about it, Iz? Do you find anyone particularly charming at Hogwarts? You can tell me; my lips are sealed." Fred was wiggling his eyebrows at her, and she shook her head again

Isabelle thought about it, and her mind wandered to her charms lesson with Dean, but quickly pushed that thought out of her head. "Not in the slightest. I have much more important things to be worrying about."

"You're a heartbreaker, Isabelle Potter."

She laughed at this one.

The two of them sat in a comfortable silence after that. The sound of the leaves rustling in the trees could be heard slightly over the sound of Fred scratching the quill against the old book. It was lucky that the day was warm considering it was now November when it should be getting colder.

It wasn't long before George had returned, and Isabelle was just finishing off the potion. she waved her wand a couple of times, allowing sparks to cascade into the liquid before deeming it ready to bottle up. As she poured the content of the potion into bottles, the twins looked delighted.

"Let's try it out then, do we have the antidote as well?"

Isabelle raised another bottle that she had prepared, as she started to dose the chocolates with the potions they had just made. In front of the her, Fred and George started to debate who would take the potion, but mid argument, Isabelle took a viral and downed it in one.

The two stated at her, then burst into cheers. She stood up and walked to the rivers edge and peered over to see her hair was a bright candy floss pink. She grinned at her work, trying to ignore the thoughts of how many detentions she would be put into if she was caught in these schemes. She finally walked back over to the twins, who were just coming to an end with their victory dance.

"It suits you, Iz. You should keep it like that." George applauded.

She flushed a little at the compliment, but before they could tease her for the redness of her face, she leaned over and picked up the antidote and took it. Within seconds, her hair was back to its usual dark brown colour, a few strands now falling over her face and out of her plait.

"Amazing. It worked first time!" Fred excitedly pointed at Isabelle's head.

"You can work with us again," George grinned, "you're amazing at brewing potions,"

"And finding those ingredients, she knew exactly what would make the hair turn pink without barely reading anything,"

"Not to mention she knows how many times to stir the potion without exploding it."

The twins were ecstatic. The two of them continued to talk excitedly as the three of them began to pack away all the ingredients and equipment they had laid out and stored it all away into their bags. Isabelle helped, but took extra effort to watch them jump about ang grin at their success. The two of them were the most mischievous people she had ever met, yet also so lovable. She now understood how the two of them could get away with all their pranks and yet be so adored by everyone in the school.

Once everything was packed away and there was no trace of a cauldron and a fire left, the three of them made their way up to the castle and headed straight for the Great Hall. The way up was a dirth track they had taken down the hill to the lake, and the breeze pushed against them. It was blissful. The closer they got to the castle, the more students they saw making their way towards the Great Hall. The corridors smelt strongly of baking cinnamon, and it wasn't until now that Isabelle realised how hungry she was.

The three of them found an empty couple of spaces at the Gryffindor table. Isabelle sat opposite the twins, who seemed to be more interested in wondering how long dinner would be than pulling off their prank.

"Now all we need to do is get it to Malfoy," Isabelle whispered, stirring the two of them back on track. Little did she know that Fred and George already had this covered.

"The owl must have been so disorientated. This isn't where _Malfoy _would sit" Fred said loudly,

"This girl mustn't like Malfoy that much if she doesn't even know where he sits." George then said. Isabelle watched them in amazement, how on Earth were they keeping straight faces?

"Perhaps we should eat the chocolate for him, I'm sure he won't mind"

"Hey!" Isabelle turned around to see Crabbe and Goyle stood cross arms behind her and staring greedily at the chocolates Fred was pretending to put in his mouth.

"If those are for Malfoy, then shouldn't you give them to him?" Crabbe cracked his knuckles, trying to look intimidating. In his defence, if he wanted to fight Fred and George, he probably could. He and Goyle combined could take on Fred and George, who in comparison were very tall, but didn't have much meat on their bones.

"You're right," said Fred, mocking a sense of disbelief in himself "how _awful _of us. Here."

Crabbe pulled the chocolates, that were now on a white plate, away from Fred. He and Goyle smirked at one another, before taking them to the Slytherin table. Isabelle was just finishing her hi-five with George when Harry, Ron and Hermione joined them.

"Isabelle," said Harry, taking the seat beside her, "I've been wondering where you've been all day. Dean Thomas said he and Seamus saw you leaving the library with Fred and George."

"Your friend would be correct," said George, not looking away from the Slytherin table. "Unavoidable circumstances, we needed to steal her from you for the day, sorry Harry." George said, but he didn't sound very apologetic at all.

"What have you been up to?" Ron moaned, noticing the glints in his older brother's eyes.

"Malfoy is going to showcase our days' work in a moment," said Fred excitedly,

That moment came very quickly, so quickly in fact, that Ron couldn't respond. Malfoy suddenly let out a great yelp from the Slytherin table and jumped straight to his feet. He looked so annoyed; Isabelle was sure his eyes had turned from their dull grey to a great fiery expression. He was the most flustered anyone had ever seen him – Afterall, he was always cool and composed, even in his moments of spite or jealousy. He then started shouting and ferociously trying to pull his hat over his head.

"You got them from _where?"_

"Those Weasley twins," Crabbe tried to explain, but Malfoy exploded in rage.

"You _idiots! _They're known for their foolish pranks!" Malfoy looked up, he noticed how much attention he was now bringing and made a break for the entrance hall door.

George raised his wand and casted a silent spell that caused Malfoy's hat to fly straight off his head.

Hermione gasped in horror, but Isabelle, and the rest of the hall erupted in a massive bound of laughter.

Malfoy, looking more embarrassed than he had ever done in his life, sprinted out. He tried to cover his pink head with his arms while Crabbe and Goyle tried to keep up with him.

"That was bloody brilliant!" Ron exclaimed through laughter,

"You ought to thank Izzy for all of this, it was her idea in the first place."

Harry, still laughing uncontrollably, nudged Isabelle and said, "they can steal you away more frequently Iz, if this is what you're going to get up to."

Isabelle grinned, caught the twin's eyes, then secluded back to her thoughts. If someone had have told her this time last year that she had met a three headed dog, battled a troll and created a potion that dyed people's hair pink – she certainly would not have believed it.


	12. Harry Potter and the Jinxed Broomstick

November came in a blast of cold weather. The castle was starting to glitter with frost, and students were beginning to bring out their coats and house coloured scarves. It seemed crazy to Isabelle that she had already been at Hogwarts for two months because everything seemed so _familiar. _Now that she knew her way to classrooms, the castle felt like a home, and all the people she had met were slowly starting to feel like a family; Harry being her real family, of course. It didn't feel like there was a gap in her life anymore. Her and Harry were becoming close as anything, and it was beginning to feel as though he had always been there with her.

Daniel was not forgotten either, Isabelle had written to tell him all about her classes and her antics with Fred and George Weasley. Daniel had responded to her with a deeply proud undertone. He was greatly impressed by her potion grades, and while amused by her prank on Malfoy, told her that she should be careful of being caught by teachers and to make sure to stay safe.

Classes had diminished for the weekend, which usually gave Isabelle, Harry, Hermione and Ron a great sense of happiness and relaxation, but not today.

Today was Harry's first Quidditch match against the Slytherin's as the Gryffindor seeker. He had been anticipating it for weeks, even read _Quidditch Through the Ages, _which Hermione had lent him. No one had seen Harry play, other than Oliver Wood and the rest of the team. It had supposed to have been confidential information, but since Malfoy knew, the rest of the school were soon aware. This only made Harry more popular. People were now following him on the corridors before classes and shouting over to him across the Great Hall. Harry wasn't sure if he preferred people telling him they hoped he was as good as Charlie Weasley had been, or that they'll run around the ground of the Quidditch pitch holding a mattress just in case.

The breakfast table was mounted with all kinds of breakfast foods that morning. Eggs, bacon, hash browns, toast, cereals and jams. Harry wasn't touching any of it while Isabelle and Ron bickered about national Quidditch teams opposite him and Hermione read.

"The Holyhead Harpies are _nothing _compared to the Chudley Cannons!" Ron insisted, "Not to mention the captain of that team is bloody mental. I don't see why you support them"

Isabelle shook her head, abandoning the eggs on her toast which were going cold. _"Firstly, _they're from Anglesey, which is where I live. _Secondly, _they're good. Mental or not, Gwenog Jones _knows _how to captain a team to victory, and _thirdly, _they're an all woman's team. Except for Morgan of course."

Ron shook his head vigorously, "you're missing the point entirely. The Chudley Cannon's are brilliant. Especially their seeker, he got pretty bloodied up in the last game, but he's soon recovered!"

"Please," Isabelle scoffed, "he made a stupid dive for the snitch and broke his nose, now it wont sit right even after being fixed."

"It wasn't a stupid dive; he wouldn't have needed to have done it if that beater hadn't smashed the bludger at him! It was foul play, that bludger then hit that chaser who broke half of his- ouch!"

As Ron blurted out in a sudden pain, Isabelle felt a sharp kick against her shin. She inhaled a quick breath and looked up. Hermione was glaring at the two of them, and discretely pointing at Harry, who now looked like he was about to throw up in his bowl.

Ron gulped, "uh, but everything ended up alright, y'know. People rarely die in Quidditch- _ow! _Hermione!"

Ron must have been kicked again, because he was now rubbing his leg with a disgruntled look on his freckled face, his hair falling over his eyes to look down to see if he had been left with a mark that may bruise.

Isabelle took a spare plate and used it to butter some toast, she then slid it in front of Harry and told him to eat it up, for he would need strength if he had any hopes of beating the Slytherins.

"I'm not hungry." Harry told her plainly, trying to push the plate back at her, but she held her ground stubbornly. She was not about to watch her brother faint and fall off his broom because he wasn't eating anything. She persisted, and only stopped sliding the plate around when Harry finally conceded and started nibbling the ends of the toast.

"I'll walk you to the changing rooms once you're done," Isabelle told him, "if you want me to."

"I would." Harry smiled, seemingly finding some sort of comfort in her.

Before anyone else could speak, there was a disruption behind Harry and Hermione's backs. The four Gryffindor's turned their attention to it only to discover Professor Snape leering at them smugly. His arms were folded in a smug sort of way. He directed his eyes from each face before settling on Harry. "Good luck today Potter, not that you need it. You've proven yourself against a troll so a little game of Quidditch should be easy work for you, even if it is against Slytherin"

Harry didn't say anything, though he did nod in acknowledgement. Snape seemed rather satisfied, as though his intention was to merely come and make Harry more nervous and swept away. However, when he moved, it wasn't in the same swift action as it usually was. Snape seemed unbalanced as though he was limping.

"That explains the blood" Harry murmured.

"Blood?" Hermione asked the same question that was floating around Isabelle and Ron's minds.

"Listen," Harry lowered his voice to a whisper importantly, "the other night when the troll was let loose, Snape's leg was covered in blood. He tried to cover it when he saw me looking. I could be wrong, but I think he let the troll in the other night."

Hermione looked more shocked than she had done upon meeting the troll. "Harry, no way. Professor Snape is a teacher, why on Earth would he do that?"

Harry sighed, "I know it sounds crazy, but I think he did it to cause a diversion. Remember when I told you Hagrid and I went to get that secret package for Dumbledore at Diagon Alley? I recon that's what the three headed dog is guarding. It must be important, otherwise they wouldn't have that creature there to protect it. I think Snape is after it."

Isabelle watched as Harry bite into his toast, it had been a rather large bite, clearly all this talk about Snape was distracting his nerves of the game. Isabelle pushed on.

"I don't know Harry, Hermione is right. Professor Snape is a teacher after all, and don't you think he'd be foolish to try anything right under Dumbledore's nose?"

"Depends on how much he wants whatever that dog is guarding," said Ron. "if he's got anything to do with the Gringotts break in then I'd say I agree with Harry. You'd either got to be really brave or really stupid to try and rob that place."

The four of them went quiet. Harry was the first to break the silence. "We should go, Izzy."

Isabelle looked at his plate, he had eaten most of the toast. She knew that there was no way she'd persuade him to finish it, mind. Instead, she nodded and took to her feet. The two of them exited the Great Hall and passed the moving portraits as they made their way to the Quidditch changing rooms.

"You're going to be fine Harry." Isabelle assured him; she could see the way he was kicking his feet against the ground as they walked. "Wood wouldn't have let you on the team if he didn't think you were any good. Plus, you were saying how well all the practices have been going."

"I know," Harry sighed, "but practice was just me and the team, this match is going to be in front of the entire school. I just don't want to mess up."

"You won't" Isabelle told him firmly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "you're going to lead Gryffindor to victory today, I just know it."

Harry smiled at her. "Thanks, Iz. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Crash and burn," she teased, and the two of them laughed.

"What's all this laughter about? We need to keep our serious heads on!"

The laughter only got louder when the Potter twins turned around to see the Weasley twins striding up to them from behind. They were both carrying a large bat in their hands and bags with their Quidditch robes in that they would obviously change into whilst in the changing rooms.

George shifted his rucksack onto one shoulder, and then carried the bat with the arm on the same side, freeing up the other side of his body to put his arm around Isabelle's shoulders. She was beginning to come accustomed to the twins and their constant arms that occupied her shoulders, and their hugs, and their hands that either attempted to tickle her sides or mess up her carefully crafted hair. On this occasion, George's half embrace was gentle, he was clearly thinking about the game, as he didn't go for his usual teasing as Isabelle rolled her eyes when his arm fell over her.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" Fred asked from Harry's other side, "nervous?"

"A little," Harry understated. Isabelle could see the way that his eyes shifted with the lie. "Just don't want to mess up the entire game. Wood will be furious."

"Don't worry about him," George chuckled.

"He's full of it," said Fred, "plus, it's your first match and we're against Slytherin. They often play dirty tactics, no one is going to blame you if you don't catch the snitch."

"I had hoped we'd have started with the Hufflepuffs" George mused, "they're always an easy win in the bag, Ravenclaw always give us a good game, but Slytherin is the worst."

Isabelle scoffed, pushing George's arm off her and skirting to stop Harry in his tracks. She put both hands on his arms and told him, "don't listen to these dunderheads. You're going to be fine, just go out there and do what you need to do. It doesn't matter if you don't catch the snitch, just enjoy your first game and get a feel for that it's like. You have the rest of your Hogwarts years to be good. For now, just have fun. I'll be supporting you from the stands with Ron, Hermione and the others. You're going to be great." She then pulled him into a hug. It as short, but she could feel him relax under her influence.

"That's a better speech than Wood has ever given us." Fred chuckled.

"Yeah, maybe we should hire you as the team's motivator, Izzy." George was also chuckling.

The Potter's were barely listening. The changing room was just behind them, Harry took a deep intake of breath and nodded at his sister. He felt stronger. "I'm ready."

"I'll see you after the game, champ." Isabelle punched his shoulder lightly, then turned to go and find her place in the stands.

The air was cold outside stood in the stands, Isabelle was holding her coat and scarf closely to her as she waited with the Gryffindors for the game to begin. It was worth the wait, not only was she excited for the game to begin and to see Harry in action, but the Gryffindors had been busy. Ron and Seamus had made a large scarlet banner that read _'Potter for President' _and Dean, who was spectacular at drawing, had drawn a large lion. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the words lit up and flashed while the lion moved.

Not moments later, small dots entered the bottom of the pitch on the ground. Madam Hooch seemed to be given the teams a talking to, before all fifteen brooms kicked off from the ground and flew into the air.

Harry seemed to have spotted the banner and waved excitedly at the Gryffindors in delight.

"And we're off!" Lee Jordan cried into the microphone as commentator for the game. "Johnson in possession of the quaffle, what an excellent chaser that girl is, and rather attractive she is too"

"_Jordan!" _McGonagall yelled.

"-sorry professor."

Isabelle watched in bewilderment at the players. They were all so perfect in their movements. The chasers raced at high speeds. Jordan wasn't wrong when he said Johnson was attractive. All the chasers were. All three of them were girls, their backs reading Johnson, Bell and Spinnet. The three of them moved in a spotless dynamic, passing the ball above and below the other Slytherin chasers. Then, Johnson took the quaffle and lurched it through one of the goal posts. The crowd went wild.

"10 points to Gryffindor!" Lee announced excitedly into the microphone.

The game continued, the Gryffindors were clearly the more talented team. They took each move in their stride and skilfully played past each Slytherin. The Slytherins may have been as talented if they weren't so _foul._ They purposefully tackled and fouled when things didn't go their way; they kicked, pushed and used bats to hit body parts, not just the bludgers.

"Make room, will ye?" Isabelle, Ron and Hermione looked to see Hagrid struggling past a group of fifth year Gryffindors to reach them. The three first years squeezed together to give Hagrid some room. He wore a large brown overcoat and held a pair of binoculars.

"Hiya Hagrid!" Isabelle grinned at him, "what are you doing here?"

"Watchin' the game o' course! Couldn't miss Harry's firs' match" Hagrid told her. "I was watchin' from me hut, but it's just not the same."

The Gryffindors scored another point, and the Slytherins were starting to play worse than before. Two bludgers blew Wood in the stomach. Hooch screamed at Flint before giving the Gryffindors a penalty. Lee was finding it very difficult not to be biased.

"So, after that purposeful foul play by that ugly git of a beater—"

"_Jordan!" _

"—Sorry Professor, I mean, after that disgusting tactic by that pig faced—"

"Jordan, if you can't commentate on the game in an unbiased way then I will need to find someone else to do it!" McGonagall snapped. Isabelle was giggling.

"Angelina Johnson scores the penalty!"

"What is Harry doin' on his broom up there?" Hagrid suddenly asked, and Isabelle wipped her head up to see that Harry was rolling in the air, looking as though he was out of control.

"Someone must be jinxing that broom!" Ron said, squinting his eyes to watch now that Hermione had snatched his set of binoculars.

"No chance!" Hagrid barked, "only dark, powerful spells could jinx a broom. No student could be doin' that."

Isabelle panicked, then looked at Hermione. she was expecting to see Hermione looking at Harry in the air, but seemingly she was looking at the stands. "It's Snape," she said suddenly, "he's jinxing the broom! Leave it to me."

She shoved the binoculars into Ron's chest, then rapidly started shoving her way past the students and racing off. Before Ron could peak into the binoculars, Isabelle took them from him to look at Snape, who was indeed staring at Harry unblinkingly and muttering something that looked like a curse.

"I can't believe it." Isabelle breathed.

Above her, Fred and George were circling underneath Harry, they were seemingly preparing themselves to catch him if they needed to. Seconds later, Harry's broom stilled, he started diving. The crowed gasped, then, he stopped.

"Harry, are you alright?!" Wood shouted.

Harry doubled over; people grimaced expecting him to throw up. Instead of disgusting fluids, however, a golden speck flew from his mouth. Harry gripped it in his hand and thrusted it into the air.

"I caught the snitch!" he cried.

The crowd went wild. Hermione positioned herself back beside Isabelle and Ron to see the moment. Each student from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff roared with applause. It completely drowned out the sound of the Slytherins booing, and Flint, who was bellowing loudly. "He didn't _catch _the snitch, he almost _swallowed _it!"

Nonetheless, the game was over Gryffindor had won.

Harry was buzzing has he followed Ron, Isabelle and Hermione down with Hagrid to the hut for tea.

"you were amazing Harry." Ron told him in awe, "I couldn't believe it when you caught the snitch."

"Neither could I," Harry told him. "I just saw it and went for it. I was a little worried my broom would flip out again though."

"It was being jinxed Harry, it was Snape. I saw him curing your broom." Hermione told him.

"Snape wouldn't jinx Harry's broom." Hagrid told them firmly, he clearly hadn't heard what had been going on next to them in the stands. "he's a Hogwarts teacher, he wouldn't do such a thing."

"I saw him Hagrid. He was muttering something and not blinking. I know a curse when I see one." Hermione told him stubbornly.

"I saw him too Hagrid, Hermione's right." Isabelle said.

"Now you four listen to me now. Snape wouldn' do somethin' like that to Harry's broom. I know yeh don't like him, but that doesn't mean he would kill a student." He opened the door to his hut and started warming up the kettle, getting five mugs and milk as the Gryffindors took seats around his large circular table. Fang bounded over and Isabelle began stretching his ears. He moved his head to give her better access.

"Do you think he did it because you suspect him, Harry?" Ron asked, gulping.

"What do yeh suspect?" Hagrid asked as he poured the hot liquid into each mug.

Isabelle grabbed the jug of milk, "Snape is trying to steal whatever that three headed dog is guarding on Halloween."

Hagrid almost dropped the kettle, "who told you about Fluffy?"

"Fluffy?" Ron asked in disgust, "that _thing _has a name?"

"O' course he does, he's mine! Lent him to Dumbledore to guard the—"

"yes?" Harry pushed.

"Never mind that, drink yer tea and get goin' back to the castle." Hagrid was beginning to look uncomfortable by the conversation at hand.

"but Hagrid, Snape is trying to steal it!" Harry continued.

"You get that idea out of yer head right now," Hagrid told Harry hotly, "Professor Snape is a Hogwarts teacher and wouldn't do such a thing. What Fluffy is guarding is strictly between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel."

"Ah," said Isabelle suddenly, "so there's a _Nicolas Flamel _involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked as though he was very annoyed with himself.


	13. Early Morning Flying

Isabelle and Harry walked around the school hallways the following morning. The celebration of the Quidditch victory over Slytherin had carried on late into the night but neither of them were tired. Harry was still buzzing about his tremendous catch and Isabelle couldn't sleep because she kept mulling over the events from the dreaded night where Quirrell and Snape had caught her returning to the common room late at night. She didn't tell Harry this, however, no. she told him she had been disturbed by Lavender's loud snoring. Harry seemed to sense that she wasn't telling the entire truth.

"You wouldn't have looked so shifty if it was just the fact that Lavender was snoring." Harry pointed out, trying to catch her eye as the two of them absentmindedly made their way onto the quidditch pitch.

The November air was icy against their exposed hands and faces. Isabelle could feel her cheeks turn a light shade of crimson against the minus temperatures and hid her face behind her woollen scarlet scarf. The grass was frosty and crunched beneath their feet as they trudged around the outskirts of the pitch. It was a lot larger on foot than it seemed from the stands.

"I didn't look shifty," Isabelle said, although even that expression seemed shifty. That was perhaps down to the fact that she was now making a conscious effort not to look at her brother, and that her fingers were fumbling together incoherently.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're not very good at lying?" Harry asked her, cocking one eyebrow up so high that it almost disappeared under his fringe.

"Alright fine…" Isabelle sighed. Her breath expelled before her face in white puff like a dragon's smoke. "I'll tell you, but do you promise not to tell anyone else?"

Harry took her hand timidly, then squeezed it. "I promise."

The two of them had made their way inside somehow. The two of them were in and amongst the Quidditch supplies. On the floor was one rattling chest with the Hogwarts emblems hand painted across the top; the chest was clearly holding the balls used for Quidditch and practice. Then, there were cabinets with some loose bristles poking out some of the cracks in the doors. They were clearly broom cupboards.

Isabelle finally stopped, then explained to Harry about her strange encounter with Professor Quirrell, and then how Snape showed up right after she heard a very eerie voice telling Professor Quirrell to do the 'deed.'

"What was the deed?" Harry asked her.

"I don't know." She answered him truthfully, "at first I thought I was hearing things, but the more I think about it, the more that I think it was Snape that was egging Professor Quirrell to do something. He looked really scared, and we all know how terrified Professor Quirrell is of Snape."

"Do you think he was trying to get Professor Quirrell to hurt you?" Harry inquired, looking as though he had just swallowed a hard-boiled sweet whole.

"I can't tell." She sighed, "the more I think about it, the more my brain hurts. As Snape brought me back to the common room, he told me that I could trust him because he's a teacher and all that… I don't know, I have a funny suspicion that he was trying to manipulate me, especially after the way he treats you and I in classes, why would he be holding out the hand of friendship now?"

"I don't know Izzy, but the whole thing is really weird." Harry told her slowly. He stood up, seeing the terror rest in her eyes and smiled. "It's over now, though."

He walked forward and hugged his sister, the same way she had hugged him the day before in his time of need. He pulled away. "Besides, anyone that wants to hurt you is going to have to get through your big brother first."

Isabelle laughed, "we're twins, how could you possibly be my big brother?"

"I was born first," Harry winked, then, his eyes lit up. "I know how we can take your mind off things."

"How?"

"Flying."

"No."

"Oh, come on! It'll be fun!"

Harry was already making his way over to the broom cupboard, and was pulling out two old school broomsticks that the two of them would be able to use to fly around the field.

"Harry no way. I can't fly! How about I just watch you—"

"Not an option." Harry thrusted a broomstick into her arms and then took her by the hand and lead her out onto the pitch. If anyone was to look out of their windows and onto the Quidditch pitch, then they would label the Potters crazy.

Against the freezing temperatures, Harry taught Isabelle how to adopt the correct position on the broomstick. This took some work; she was so nervous that she was losing her balance even with two feet on the ground. Harry kept laughing at her.

"Now hover, that's it. Just like that. Close your eyes if it helps."

"I'm not going to close my eyes; do I look like I'm insane to you?"

"Yes."

"That was a rhetorical question."

Isabelle was gripping onto the end of her broom so tightly that she was worried it might snap beneath her fingers. She stayed hovering in the air as Harry began to soar around in the sky. This distracted her for a moment as she watched him. He flew from one end of the pitch to another, doing impressive loops and swinging around the goal posts. Even on an older broomstick, he looked like a natural – Harry certainly didn't need new impressive technology to make a good Quidditch player.

"You're doing it, Iz!" Harry cried.

Isabelle looked down, she just realised that she was absentmindedly flying upwards towards Harry. Her mind instantly rushed to Daniel's letter before her first flying match: _trust your instincts. _And so, pushing her anxiety aside, did just that.

Her broom swished into the air, and flew past Harry at such a speed, that he almost fell from the shock of it. "Watch it!" She heard him shout from behind her, and she laughed.

Harry began to chase her around the pitch on his broom, and it didn't take him long to do so. The two of them laughed loudly without a care in the world as they adopted a game of 'who can get the scarf' after Harry easily slipped Isabelle's off from around her neck.

Isabelle intercepted and got her scarf back a fair few times before Harry would take it again. They finally decided to stop when the sun was starting to rise. They were both hungry and wanted breakfast.

"Told you flying was easy." Harry had said once they entered the Great Hall and took positions beside Hermione and Ron at the breakfast table. "You should try out for the team." She shook her head and laughed at this. She reached for the toast. Ron looked as though he was about to inquire what the Potters were talking about, but Hermione's mouth opened much faster than his did.

"Where have the two of you been?" Hermione asked shrilly, "I've been in the library this morning, looking for information on Nicholas Flamel."

"Oh yeah?" Isabelle asked her lightly, knowing there was a line she shouldn't tread over, "did you find anything?"

"Nothing at all." Hermione sounded very frustrated by this as she mixed berries into her cereal. "Nothing in famous wizards of the nineteenth to twentieth century at all. I thought that would be the place to find him, especially considering he's friends with Dumbledore."

"Don't worry Hermione." Ron insisted with a mouthful of baked beans. "We'll help look later."

Hermione looked at him disgustedly by the way he talked with his mouth wide open. "Oh goodie."

Isabelle looked around the Great Hall, her eyes landing on Snape, who looked as though he was trying to ignore McGonagall excitedly talking about Gryffindors excellent Quidditch win the previous day. He must have felt eyes on him, because he looked up to see Isabelle staring at him.

This time, however, Isabelle didn't feel worried. Her stomach didn't lurch with he thought of how he had turned up so shiftily that night with Professor Quirrell. She was no longer worried about how he had tried to curse her brother on his broomstick yesterday. She felt stronger. She was no longer scared. She smiled in the face of fear, then turned back to her fellow Gryffindors.

"Let's finish breakfast and then get started. I don't want to waste another minute."


End file.
